A Twist in Time
by ReaperOfLostSouls
Summary: Clara has lived all her life in a desperate attempt to stop the apocalypse, but when she is given a chance to start over, will she take hold of her humanity or let go and embrace Death? Thrown back in time, Clara meets the infamous Undertaker and begins a new life in the Victorian era. Will she survive social norms, or fight back and grow into her own? Adult themes. UndertakerXOC.
1. The Beginning of the End

**A/N: HELLO EVERYONE! Welcome to my next story. Hopefully I get somewhere with it.**

**Anyways, I started this story about… at the beginning of this month? In March? And while I wasn't exactly sure if I'd stick with this story, I've already written out almost 17 chapters, so I decided it was about time I start posting it.**

**I'm hoping to stick with this story. I kind of like where it's going.**

**I will apologize at any repetitiveness. Sometimes I say the same thing over and over, and I feel a bit bad when I do. Still, I'll try to cut out any scenes/parts that seem repetitive, but this isn't exactly a story I'm trying to turn into a novel. No. This is just a fun little story, with ideas I've wanted to combine together.**

**And to put this universe into perspective, if you get a tad lost, think of this as… a new attempt. A new timeline. A part two, perhaps. Does the events of the manga or anime happen? I'm not sure, yet. A big reason why I haven't written and posted about the Black Butler series in a while is because I was a bit afraid of getting the timeline wrong. Considering the manga is still going. Well… I enjoy the characters, especially the Undertaker. So, it's a risk I'm going to have to take.**

**Maybe the parts of the manga already happened and this intro/chapter 1 is about the events that transpired, as a result. I don't know. Let's not think too much about this.**

**Anyways, I hope you guys will ENJOY this story! Hopefully there's a few of you guys interested in this story. Once again, I wasn't exactly sure if I'd post it to begin with… but this story has been a nice stress reliever, so why not? **

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Lara!" you heard someone yelling, but it was too late for you to register who was yelling.

All you could feel is the sharp pain wedged into your side, your breath leaving your lungs as your body flew backward, hitting a tree trunk, hard. Your body crumbled to the ground, and your death weapon feel out of your hand and slumped into the mud. Someone, or rather something, was gawking at you for your misfortune, but as you felt the darkness beginning to loom over you, threatening to swallow you whole, a fairly petite, but feisty rusty brunette haired woman jumped in front of you in defense, wielding a fairly thick bladed sword in both of her hands, her knees bent as she kept a tight grip on her weapon. "Lara, a-are you okay!?"

"Fine," you managed to groan out in pain, trying desperately to stay conscious and deal with this problem before you, but the more you moved, the more your vision became fuzzy. Blood was trickling down your face, so much that you had to wipe some of the blood away to see properly, before hearing the clashing of metal against metal, steel against hardened skin, but she was giving you enough time to stir. Yet, you know she's in trouble.

She's not a reaper built for intense fighting like this, and if she goes on then she's going to… end up like everyone else you hold dear.

The fear of loss was enough to cause you to stumble to your feet, using both the tree and your weapon to maintain an upright position. "Unwilling to give up? _How pitiful~_" you heard someone snickering, and hissing, very close to your body, and you clutched your weapon tightly as you willed yourself to keep moving. No matter how much the pain resonated from your body, no matter how much your joints and muscles didn't want to move, you had to. Needed to. If this is going to fail, then you'll fail alongside this mission.

"Says a disgusting creature like you," you scoffed in response, finally making your move, and charging at the entity with all of your might. Your vision was pretty much shot, now, but you relied on your other senses to keep you moving. You could smell the foul stench of decay and blood, hear the swishing and footsteps. The snarls that left its mouth as it tried to fight back and dodge your swipes, and the shriek that left its breath as you managed to get a solid slice into the creature, causing it to stumble, and giving you the best moment to strike.

It was a quick swipe. A bit awkward, but by using a forceful step to change the momentum of your swing and cause your body to move in a different way, you let out a loud cry, cleanly slicing the creature into two equal parts, right up the middle from bottom to top. The look of shock was still on its face as its body separated from your blade, and you grunted in annoyance as you kicked the creature away from you, trying to not get too much disgusting demonic blood on yourself.

That stuff is hell to clean!

But now, you were in the zone. Your body moved on its own, no matter how painful everything felt. Every move you made was met with a sharp pain, but the pain slowly became numb, and every new nick or scratch or stab meant absolutely nothing.

You moved as if you were dancing. Your feet spinning as you swung your oversized weapon with such skill it caused a few of the vermin to back off and run away in terror. Only a few. The rest that remained got to meet the end of your blade as you slashed, hacked, and stabbed your way through the hoard. It was as if you were in a whole other world. A world with just you and your death weapon. An elegant macabre performance just for you, yourself, and Death.

But as the screaming stopped, leaving a hush in the air that became a strange cooling calm over your skin, your body finally stopped its deadly dance and you stood, panting. Your body suddenly gave out as you held onto your side, gripping the gapping stab wound tightly, while your bloody weapon crumbled back into the mud. "Lara!" you heard your friend shouting as she rushed to your side, and you groaned slightly in pain, more over the fact that now you could **feel** the pain, as she let her hands drift over your gapping wound skillfully, her energy emitting from her palms in an attempt to heal you. "You… you idiot."

"R-rosie… the others –"

"I don't know. Michael and Stevie rushed to the orphanage. We're going to have to evacuate," she told you, but all you could do is let out a deep, tired, exhausted sigh.

"So… this is the end of it, huh? This sanctuary you reapers call home, taken away by a bunch of pesky devils?" you stated rather then questioned, and she frowned at your disgruntled nature before snorting, her grip on your side tightening just slightly, and causing you to wince at the feeling.

"I'm mad too, but this is what we have to do, ain't it? They're overpowering us –"

"Where, though? T-there's no safe place, anymore," you frowned, your vision starting to go glossy as you tried to stay awake.

If you close your eyes, you know, this time, you're not waking up. If you let that happen… well, at this point you don't really care about yourself. Not really. Not anymore, but Rosie? The others?... You can't pass out here. You **can't** die here.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

"I… L-lara I –"

"It's… it's okay. Breathe. Your aura is starting to sting," you smiled meekly, trying to act positive, but the desperation and exhaustion was written all over your face.

Honestly, you're just tired of this. If there was a way to change all this… you'd do it, but how?

Everyone did all they could. Heck, you were born with the very thought that perhaps you could stop the inevitable destruction. You weren't exactly happy when you learned that fact, but hey, you're here and alive. That's all that matters, at the end of the day.

But there may not be another day, after today.

The thought of losing everything: your life, your world, any sort of future… Your eyes glanced up to the sky, noticing the eclipse. It wasn't… changing. The moon, blocking the sunlight…

Everything is dying. Nothing is surviving. Plants, animals, humans… you'd be surprised if anything survives, at this point. Maybe… Death will get to die off as well? But that's wishful thinking… right?

"… Lara?... Hey! Clara, stay with me!" you heard Rosie say, jolting you back into an awakened state, and you blinked, your eyes glancing her over as she began to frown, her fingers tracing your face and pushing away your messy, disorderly bangs. "You… I… always loved your human eyes. They're overworldly," she smiled, weakly, and you smiled weakly in reply as you reached up to her own face, brushing a few stray tears away from the side of her cheek before sighing in exhaustion.

"… I'm sorry."

"N-no! Don't be. Please, don't," she frowned, but you shook your head.

"Everything. I-if I wasn't such a… if I just tried a little harder and stopped being so reluctant, maybe this would have ended better," you decided to say, but she scoffed in response.

"We reapers had all the time in the world to solve this. **You** did nothing wrong… Clara, I-I –"

"I love you… too," you mumbled, curling up into the woman's lap as you closed your eyes.

You couldn't take the pain anymore. You wanted everything to stop, and eventually…

_Everything did stop._

_The pain. Suffering. Your worries. Your feeling, emotions, and even your hunger._

_The world around you felt still. It was… nice. You weren't quite happy, but… at least you aren't sad. Or mad. Exhausted and tired about everything. There was…_

_Nothing…_

_But, something inside of you told you that this cannot end here._

_Not now. There's too much to do. The world cannot end here. __**You**__ cannot end here._

_It doesn't matter what anyone's intentions for you was, or why you were conceived. What your father or mother thought about you, or what others may think._

_You just know that… you need to do more. And…_

_Something… someone… reaching out for you and…_

Your eyes snapped open and you let in a deep breath. The air felt dusty, salty, but it was enough to bring you back into sudden awareness of the situation.

You noticed you were lying on the ground, probably abandoned to decompose back into the earth. Your death weapon was laying limp beside you, as if it knew that you'd wake up, again, or maybe it was due to your own stubborn soul that it wasn't vanishing into nothingness. You sighed. The pain in your body was back, but it was something to keep you going.

Something to keep you awake. To know that you're still alive.

You sighed, but the effort to sigh was painful. Oh, so painful. Yeah… maybe you should just stay dead… but then again, what sort of abomination would you be if you just let yourself die?

With one last sigh, you began to stumble to your feet. First, by getting down on your hands and knees, crawling for your weapon, before using the long metal, hollow pole to pry yourself to your feet and steady yourself as your body naturally swayed and your feet stumbled.

It… will do.

You closed your eyes. You could sense the pain, the screaming. The children crying. If you're going to do something… it'll be for them.

The future is what matters here. No matter how much you've screwed up.

You breathed, slowly, concentrating your energy, your power, into one last attempt. You could feel the energy from your soul beginning to erupt out of your body, charging you up as you thought this over. Yes… you could just disappear, pretend that nothing is wrong. Live in the apocalyptic world and survive like everyone else. Wish and pray that everything could be alright again. That nothing horrible happened. Heck, maybe just live out your days as the human you're supposed to be. But…

No. No, you still have to fight this.

If your big brother was here, he'd be yelling at you for ever thinking about giving up, and the thought of everything he gave up and suffered for… Yeah. You cannot give up.

So… somehow.

You began to move.

You don't know how you got there to the scene, what you did, but your body, once again, moved on its own. It knew how to avoid attacks, how to defend, how to strike back. It was as if your mind had left your body, and you were floating. Floating, and seeing nothing. Hearing nothing. Just… you.

And… a voice? Snapping you out of your trance.

"Lara! Don't!" you heard Rosie screaming at you, her voice trying to stop you, but before you could become completely self aware of what was going on, your blade stabbed right into a large ticking stop watch, and…

_A flash…_

_A chorus of screaming…_

_And a shocked look on a demon's face as you managed one more solid hit, cutting its head clean off before your world plummeted into utter darkness._


	2. The Start of a New Era 1

The first thing you realized is that you are alive.

But the second… was that you are in a lot of pain.

Slowly, you began to blink, but you were met with an utter darkness. The walls around you… were close. Way too close… you couldn't… you needed to…

Are you in a…

You began to breath heavily. No! Where are you?! In a coffin!? Your hand hit your walls, but you didn't hear dirt. You tried to reach up for the lid to pry it away, but nothing. You were too weak.

But if you summon your energy… plus, your claustrophobia…

In your panic, your body flew upward, and you pushed past your pain as you hit the lid, hard, with your fists, then your arm, and with a pained yelp you managed to move the lid, just enough, so you could see the light in the corner of your vision. Noticing the light, your eyes strained, but you let your body slumped back onto the fluffy ground, only to slowly lift your body back up as you continued to breath heavily.

You needed air. Air! No, you can't take this!

Your fingers managed to pry through the light, blocking your view for a moment, but your grip on the lid shifted the heavy wood before it slipped further and further down, hitting the ground with a loud 'thud'. You gasped, your breathed heavily, your hand gripping your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Tears dripped down your face at the thought of being trapped. Being in the dark. You know it's a terrible phobia, it isn't something too hard to conquer, but… you can only deal with so much.

Darkness, fine. Even heights, fine, but closed in spaces? Nuh uh.

You put your head into your hand, your elbow against your upwardly bent knee as you tried to steady yourself. Calm your shaking body. That… wasn't fun.

But the distant memory of being buried alive didn't help with your fears, either.

How troublesome.

But before you could truly take in your current predicament, you heard a door creeping open. Your head turned, just slightly, before you slowly began to take in what began to slip into the room you were currently confined in. It was a tall dark figure, clad in black robes, with a gray sash across his chest, tied in a precarious manner at his side. A black top hat with a long black tassel down his backside, and… pale, scarred skin, shielded by long flowing, unnaturally silver locks of hair.

You just stared at him utterly confused, before you felt a sharp pain in your side and your hand snapped to your side, noticing the warm crimson blood that was… coming out of the side of a white nightgown. What?

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion before snapping back to glare at the man, who giggled at your angry state of being. "_My, my, what's this~? One of my guests have awoken from the grave~~_" he giggled, but your eyes glanced away from him as your eyes went back to your side, then to your chest.

Whatever movement you heard, or any voices you could hear, slowly began to drown away as your eyes began to roll back into your head and you fell back into the bedding, your hand gripping your side in pain. You shuddered, tightly closing your eyelids in an attempt to see and think clearly, but before you knew it, your eyelids opened back up as you felt your body being moved, and your gaze hazily looked over to that same black cloaked man, apparently carrying you… somewhere. "I'm… not dead," you managed to mumble, hearing a slight giggle in response, but your mind was drifting away, again.

Whoever this is, whatever is going on…

You're too tired.

You don't care anymore.

You just need to… sleep. Yeah, just… sleep…

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Slowly, your eyelids to flicker open. Your pain… seemed… different. The room were you in wasn't bright at all. On the contrary. It was very… dark, but strangely relaxing.

But you could smell the overwhelming stench of decay and death, and as you felt yourself coming back from your resting, you could hear the door opening, causing your head to slightly tilt to the side as a familiar cloaked figure walked in, stopping for a moment to notice you were awake, before giggling to himself and placing the tray he had in his hands down on a nearby table. "_Aren't you an interesting one~_" he snickered as he drew nearer, but while you should be fearful of this… guy.

Something was off… but you weren't afraid about it. On the contrary.

Like meeting a very old, unique friend… for the very first time.

Again.

But noticing you weren't speaking, he slowly sat down on the edge of your bedside, giving you a light smile while you stared at him, confused. "Can you remember who you are? _Hmm~?_"

"Ah… I… yeah," you responded, but he noticed your hands reaching for your side, then for your chest, and he rose to his feet and giggled to himself.

"You were in a very sorry state when we found you, my dear. I'm surprised you're still alive, after all of the cuts and bruises. A _normal~ human_ shouldn't have survived," he giggled, causing you to give him a curious look in response, but then you let your own little smirk appear on your face as you slowly rose up in the bed, sighing to yourself and letting a soft hum leave your breath in thought, but before he could say something else you decided to interject.

"Says _the deadliest~ of morticians_. Makes me wonder if a retired office man like yourself should be making quick assumptions," you smirked in reply, noticing his grin falling on his face before you let out another groan, sitting up a bit more in the bed to try to straighten your posture.

Even if you're in pain, you didn't want to develop a terrible hump or lump in your back. If your father taught you anything useful, it'd be to act intimidating, no matter how weak you really are. It's always a good strategy when handing out any sort of orders. Makes you seem… bigger then you actually are.

"… You healed me. And used string only a grim reaper would have… Am I wrong to assume you're some rogue?" you decided to ask, though the curious tone in your voice was enough to cause a slight grin to return back to his face, growing wider at the raised eyebrow you were giving him in return.

"_Geh eheh~… My, my~_. I've uncovered _a very interesting human indeed~_" he snickered, and you smiled meekly at him before glancing away, your eyes wandering around the dark room.

While you have the traits of a reaper, when activated, your sight is still top notch. Sure, you're going to start to need glasses at some point in your life, but… The room was still rather small, but it wasn't as confining as the damn box you were shoved into. That's for sure. But you realized… you were on a rather uncomfortable examination table, though a bit padded, was probably used for corpses… or whatever bodies happen to end up on this table.

Maybe you don't even want to know.

"… Something wrong?" you heard him ask, but you gave him a curious glance before smiling, turning your head away once more, and shaking your head. "… What sort of scuffle were you in, my dear? Demons, perhaps?"

You paused, and he gave you a curious look at the sudden realization lining your face. "Shit," you mumbled, your eyes shifting around as you thought about the current situation. Well, considering you're here and not dead, that must mean… the world hasn't completely ended, right?

But where are the others? The kids? Rosie? Your unit?

Before you could scramble out of the bed, he placed a firm, yet gentle bony hand upon your chest, causing you to give him an annoyed look, but you reluctantly let him press you backward until you were back upon the bed, before he grinned and began to make his way to his tray. "_Now, now~_. No need to be in a hurry, my dear. You're still recovering."

"R-right, but –"

"But?" he gave you a curious look, but as you closed your lips, realizing maybe you were saying too much, his smile faded for a moment before coming back, ten fold, as he let a light hum leave his breath. You couldn't help but try to glance over at whatever he was doing, but as he came back to your side, where your fresh stitches are, you realized he must be attending to your wounds. Again. "… You don't have to do all this," you mumbled, his head glancing up at your tired looking face, but you glanced to blink at him as he snickered in reply.

"And leave a poor girl defenseless? Not at all, my dear. _I'm happy to be of service~_" he giggled to himself, but you gave him a curious look before letting your eyes fall to your gown. "Now, if you don't mind, I –"

"Right. Go ahead," you grumbled, trying to lift the gown over your head, but noticing your wincing and hissing in pain as you pulled on your fresh stitches, he quickly helped you slip the gown off of your head and down on the top of the bedsheets. "T-thanks."

"Of course," he giggled, his eyes peering through his shroud of bangs as he looked at his stitch work, and you let out a painful hiss as his fingers pressed into your stitches, causing a light snicker to leave his breath at your response. "Very nasty wounds, my dear."

"Yeah, well… I'm surprised to be alive," you scoffed in response, earning you a curious glance from him, but you snarled through your teeth at he pressed something that stung right into your wound, but after a moment you exhaled a breath you realized you were holding, watching as he 'tsked' at something that caused you to frown slightly. "I… am staying alive… right?" you couldn't help but ask in a concern tone, but noticing his curious glance in your direction, he snickered and stood up to go back to his tray.

"Oh, I assume. If you're still awake," he giggled before returning, but you frowned at the needle and long spool of thread in his hands, and his giggling intensified at your displeased look. "_Soooo~_…"

"… So – Shit!" you yelped, your hands slapping into your mouth as you held back a scream while he stabbed you effortlessly with the needle. But you apparently impressed him as you calmed yourself quickly, letting out shaky breaths as you relaxed, giving him a slight nod to keep going.

Apparently, that first stab was just to freak you out, because the rest of his threading barely got a yell out of you, his fingers delicately stringing his stitch work together while he pried away cut, old stitches that were bloody and a bit more painful to take out of your skin. But, eventually, he stepped away, cleaning your side with a wet cloth as you shakily breathed, your eyelids tightly closed as you tried to maintain a level head, or at the very least, not pass out from the pain. "… This is why I hate devils," you grumbled underneath your breath, but you glanced over at the man as he set his equipment down before returning to your bedside to give you a curious look. "… Did you want to ask a question or something?"

"_Yeesss~_" he snickered, pausing for a moment before moving the bedsheet to stare at your chest, and your eyes glanced down at the, now, large gash down your front. You were surprised your side hurt more then your chest, but as you realized that, yes, you had been slashed in the chest, you couldn't help but frown in response, poking at your stitches to only grumble in response. "I'm more curious to why you're not _**mad~**_ that I'm staring at your chest."

"Perv," you grumbled, suddenly sitting up in the bed to give him an irritated, yet calculating look. "I have no doubt you've looked at whatever you wanted to already. What I want to know is… why are you helping me?"

"I'm simply curious," he snickered, poking at your stitched chest before standing up, leaving you sitting on the bed as he began to gather his things on his fairly large tray. "Normal humans tend to be scared around me, but here you are noticing my true nature. Perhaps you should explain yourself," he stated, and you paused.

Should you say something? Well… he did help you out so…

You reluctantly sighed, but it's not like you could lose much, these days. No anymore. "… I'm a half breed," you began, bluntly, his head slowly turning to your slightly exposed figure as you began to tug the bedsheet higher up your body, since you were starting to feel cold, but he could see your other hand reaching for your right eye with a frown on your face. "Half human, half grim reaper. My father wanted me produced, and my mother… was into the occult. Necromancy, witchcraft… that sort of thing. He actually got her consent, so… I guess it wasn't an entirely bad thing, I suppose," you mumbled the last part before giving him a curious look. "Should I say more?"

"Perhaps," he snickered, your eyes rolling at his response, but your fingers continued to rub at your right eye, feeling a familiar sting that you couldn't quite see, couldn't exactly feel, but it was there. An awful memory that you wish could fade away with time, but it just isn't that simple.

"… Demons have been trying to kill me since day one. I'm not afraid to get into a scrummage with them. The ones that talk say that my scent is alluring. Probably because I'm a weak and defenseless human, perhaps. It's… irritating," you scoffed, but then you glanced over at the man with your own curious look. "If we're going to exchange information, then can I ask, who are you?" you asked in a curious tone, his hidden gaze and your own gaze maintaining a calculating look, before he let a slight snicker leave his breath, breaking the tension that was building up in the air, as he flicked his long black sleeve against his chest and stood proudly.

"I am known as _the Undertaker~_. But no, I am not a _rogue~ grim reaper_. Simply retired," he snickered, causing you to give him a skeptical look, but then you slowly nodded your head in response. "And you, my dear?"

"… Clara," you told him, a bit too bluntly, "but I prefer the name Lara."

"Hmm… _Clara~_. Very lovely name, for a lovely lady," he smiled as he let your name roll off of his tongue, causing you to huff in response.

"Lady. I'm no lady. Don't call me that," you grumbled, but he simply giggled in response as he began to make his way to the door, but as you looked over you couldn't help but say something else. "Ah… the Undertaker," you began, noticing his grin seemed to widen as you used his name, or rather his 'nickname', but until he turned to acknowledge you and not run off like you thought he'd do. "I… know this is going to be a bit strange, but can I ask something else?"

"_Hmmm~?_" he responded, giving you a curious look while you sighed, grasping the sheets tightly in anticipation of a rejection.

"So… you're a reaper, right? I… I have these friends. Kids actually… I don't know if they're still alive, after I blacked out," you decided to say before looking back at him, trying to straighten your back as you continued. "If just… if you know a way of finding out if some reaper orphans happened to show up, all of the sudden, that would put my mind at relative ease," you told him, giving him a hopeful look.

Normally, you wouldn't ask anyone to look into something like this. You'd just do this yourself, but considering you're bedridden and he is a reaper himself, who says he hasn't gone rogue, well… why not?

But the unresponsive answer caused you to slowly frown more and more, until you sighed and looked away, defeated by the unresponsive answer. "I get it. N-never mind. I shouldn't have asked –"

"I can… try," he responded, pausing for a moment before suddenly stepping back into the room, giving you a curious glance as he continued with a softer smile upon his face. "Kids, huh? Why are you worried?"

"You did see my sorry state, right?" you scoffed, as if your answer was obvious, but you paused for a moment before glancing away and pouting. "If I survived and they didn't, what sort of being would I be? I…" you sighed, running a hand over your face, pushing back the need to cry before you looked back at him to give him a meek smile. "It's… it's not very important. Don't worry about it –"

"I'll look into the matter," he told you, simply, before flashing you a smile that caused your own, weak smile to appear on your tired looking face. "In the meantime, rest. You need to sleep, and I'll come by with some food."

"… Okay," you responded, your voice a bit weak, but as he left you, you couldn't help but let a frown appear on your face as you looked down at your new stitches.

Demons… are such a pain.

But now… you're confused.

Why would some retired reaper **not** be helping in fighting off the apocalypse? The end of the world as we know it? Unless…

Something… **else** happened?

You are still you so… maybe… something happened in that battle you didn't notice?

But the longer you thought about it, the more tired you became. Slowly, you slumped your head onto the pillow, sighing as you stared up at the cobwebbed ceiling in deep thought. As long as those kids came out okay, you suppose. The others… you'll be saddened if Rosie or the others suffered, died because you weren't there to stop their deaths, but the future is what is important. Even if Death never comes by again, the kids can figure something else out. Live their own way.

Considering everything, the dots aren't exactly connecting. You realized you needed more information before determining the best course of action. Accepting your internal agreement, you closed your eyes, your body quickly falling into a deep slumber before your mind could think about anything else, vaguely important.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: I decided to put the author's note at the end because I wanted to talk a bit more.**

**Yep, I decided to post another chapter after the first! Hopefully to give you guys a taste for what this story is all about.**

**So, you're thrown back in time, into the Victorian era, and given a new chance to change the fate of the world… or cause the apocalypse, perhaps. **

**As for how that happened… well, there was a demonic stop watch. I didn't give it too much thought as to HOW, but the story truly picks up here. Yeah, I didn't write too many fighting scenes… yet. There's a lot of banter, a lot of talking. Stuff like that, but I decided to spend more time developing the characters, developing various relationships, before jumping back into the 'plot'… if you could call this 'jumping back in time' a plot.**

**The supernatural stuff will come… later. For now, there's a lot of figuring out this new place and time period. Trying to reconnect to being, well, human. **

**Hopefully you guys will like this story. I may not post periodically, but if I see that there are people who enjoy this story, a lot of viewers, maybe I'll post more often then just 'every once in a while'. **

**Recently, I've been brought back to the Kuroshitsuji story since this last 'arc' seemed to have come to a close. With the two Ciels separating, and our-Ciel [the one not dead] deciding to fight for his title as 'earl'. But, that's not where this story is starting.**

**And maybe the events of Black Butler will change within this fanfic. I don't know! I haven't gotten that far, but it does start with Vincent. So there you go.**

**If you want this story to have more Vincent Phantomhive, do tell me. I may end up doing a major time skip so we can get to the 'Earl Ciel Phantomhive' and the infamous butler, Sebastian, but I haven't decided if I'll do that… yet. I don't know if I'll have the story end before the twins get kidnapped, or not. **

**I mean, I'm sure parts of my story will happen after that tragedy happens, but I don't know if it'll be closer to the end… or in the middle of the plot. I'm… still thinking that over.**

**So any thoughts on the matter would be greatly appreciated! There's still a lot of explain, in the confines of the story, and hopefully I make my words clear. I just hope I don't end up becoming repetitive. I tend to do that, a bunch. Ranting… like now, but whatever. **

**Anyways, I hope you'll ENJOY this story for what it is. I could have done something a bit more simple, less extravagant, but… meh. I wanted to write a Kuroshitsuji story, after not doing so for a long while, with reapers and creatures and whatever else. This has become a nice stress reliever, for myself, and I hope to keep the plot moving forward… but sometimes it stalls. So I apologize for that.**

**I do keep the chapters between 1-2 scenes long. Sometimes there's time jumps, and hopefully the chapter insinuates that there is a jump in time. I'll say that there is in the A/N. And, I may not add an author's note every chapter. It depends on how/when I post these chapters. If it's a lot at a time, or every once in a while. **

**Now, I'll stop talking now. But THANK YOU for reading my story! And I hope to post for chapters soon.**

! #$%^&*()

**[P.S. [after rereading the chapter]: I find it funny that some protagonists of these fanfic stories seem to be alright with waking up in a coffin or meeting the Undertaker. If I woke up in a coffin, with the lid on, I'd probably start freaking out! Especially since tight spaces and darkness freak me out. **

**Anyways, I just wanted to say that I did write this OC, Clara, in a way that related to me. There are things she does that I also do/enjoy, or would like to do/enjoy, so if Clara doesn't relate well with you, I apologize. I just didn't want to write her as a two dimensional character, and the best way to write characters is relating them with yourself.**

**Right?**

**I'll stop talking now, but thanks for reading.]**


	3. The Start of a New Era 2

You paused as you were munching on a few small pieces of vegetables, noticing the man staring directly at you as he sat upon an old looking chair, before you went back to staring off into space. The soup, or perhaps, stew the man made was oddly delicious, though you wondered if he… added anything. Not that you care, anymore, cause if you were going to die you suppose you would have, but it'd be unfortunate if you were brought back from the brink of death, only to drop dead a few moments later.

But as you continued to feel his eyes upon you, hidden behind his tussle of silver bangs, even though you practically stated that you know he's a grim reaper, you couldn't help but sigh, turning back to him and giving him one of your famous, irritated glares as he began to grin a bit more childishly in response. "… Are you done? Is watching someone eat really that interesting, or are you hoping the poison would take its effect sooner?"

"_Ga pahahahaha~!_" he suddenly responded, your eyes continuing to eye him as he laughed at your 'joke', but as his laughter died down, and you were giving him a stern irritated glare, he snickered into his sleeve before leaning on his knees. "Oh. Oh my. You're a delight."

"Really? You enjoy basic sarcasm? –"

"You are, _how should I say it~?_... Blunt," he smirked, suddenly scooting his chair closer to your bedside, and you frowned in response as he innocently grinned at your silent answer. His leering eyes were starting to unnerve you, but before you could utter something in response, he continued, "You have… intriguing eyes for a grim reaper," he decided to say, causing your eyes to look at him rather shocked, but slowly you turned away, reaching your right hand up to your right eye to sigh softly at his words, causing him to pout slightly at your sad reaction. "Don't tell me you dislike your own reflection."

"You could say that," you mumbled in irritation, your hands wrapping around the tray on your lap to shove it away from your lap and further down your legs, but apparently getting the hint, he took the tray from you with a grin and made his way to a table, setting the tray down before returning to your bedside with a grin lining his face. "… What are you seeing, actually?" you decided to ask, causing the man to stop his constant giggling as you gave him an honest, unsure look. "I haven't looked at a mirror since I woke up," you told him, causing him to snicker.

"Are you _so vain~_ as to desire to see your own reflection?"

"No," you responded, a bit too bluntly, but his response was a tad insulting as you rubbed your right eye, as if it was starting to irritate you. Maybe it is, as you felt a familiar, faint sting that you'd normally be grumbling about, but you held back your discomfort as you tried to give an honest, yet roundabout reply. "… I can't exactly tell if my eyes look weird or if there's scars all over my face. Okay? You may not mind visible scars, but I do. People look at you differently if you have a scar," you frowned, letting your hand drop to your side before your other hand went to scratch the back of your neck. "Anyways, there's something else I wanted to discuss with you."

"Oh?" he replied in a curious tone, and you gave him a curious glance before sighing underneath your breath, composing yourself, before staring directly into his bangs, where you figured his eyes currently are.

"You've been… strangely nice. What are you expecting as payment for your kindness? No one acts without a hidden motive," you stated, bluntly, but you needed to know.

There's always a hidden agenda. A hidden motive for anyone to be nice to you. Always. Even the kindest human in existence was only kind for their own eternal salvation. What you don't understand is why a grim reaper would bother with a thing like yourself.

"You _assume~_ I'm expecting something? –"

"Yes," you responded bluntly, once again, slowly sitting up in the bed and wishing you could leave it. Being cooped up in one spot can be maddening, at times, and this man is still a stranger. It doesn't matter if you're honest or not, but he's still a damn stranger to you.

He seemed to pause, staring at your calculating look as you narrowed your eyes at him. Expecting an answer. Not wanting, but expecting. Heck, if he doesn't say something you might as well –

"You… remind me of a little dearie I used to know," he finally stated, giving you a light smile that turned a bit crude as you gave him a completely confused look in return. "She's dead, though."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that," you decided to respond with a tired sigh, before looking at him and raising a curious eyebrow at him. "How, though? Was she a half breed, like me?"

"No, but a curious little soul. That is all," he told you, your eyes looking into his bangs as you thought his words over, only for you to sigh and glance away, frowning at that thought. "… _Jealous~?_"

"Why would I be? Truth or not, at least it's an answer, I guess," you grumbled in irritation, but you could tell his smile began to slowly fade as you reached for your right eye, once more, rubbing at your closed eyelid as you felt your eye was on fire.

"My question is," he decided to say, causing your head to glance over at him as he continued simply, "where is your family? Are you an orphan?" you heard him ask, your gaze glancing him over before you turned away and let a scoff leave your breath.

Right… are you? You are, right? But… if you're honest, would it matter?

You certainly don't want to overstay your welcome, so…

"… Mum died. Dad died. So, I guess so," you mumbled in response before looking over at him and narrowing your eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

"Simply wondering what you plan on doing when you can finally stand on your own two legs, my dear," he grinned in response, trying to act innocent, but you could tell he was continuing to prob you for information.

"Probably… leave. Why?" you responded, again, narrowing your eyes as you gave him a suspicious glance.

But he grinned at your irritated attitude, trying to hold back his giggling as he gave you a grin in return. "I was simply thinking, since you're a _delight~_ to be around, perhaps you'd like to work here as my little mortician in training?" he grinned, but as you gave him a blank stare in reply his smile slowly began to diminish over his face. "… Unless you don't want to."

"Why?" you asked once more, prompting him to give you a slightly irritated look in response, which, you had to admit, seemed rather amusing considering he's been tormenting you since you woke up.

"Why must you keep asking? –"

"Not to be offensive, but every single creature I've ever met expects something out of me, okay? Work in your shop? To what end? Sure, I could work here, pay off the unspoken debt I should probably repay to you for helping me out, but other then that, why? What? You want to use me? Torment me? I'm not in the mood to be used right now," you frowned, but instead of being mad or looking confused, he simply blinked, staring at your posture, your stern look, your calculating gaze, and, surprisingly, began to smile. Smirk, even.

And then he began to laugh.

He laughed so hard he tumbled down to the ground, and you stared at him, utterly confused, as he rolled on the dirty floor with his hands clutching his chest as he laughed heartily at your words.

You couldn't help but blush.

Well… this is weird. He's such a weirdo.

"You're crazy," you finally stated out loud, his laughter dying down, just slightly, as he stared up at your looming figure above him, looking down on him as he wiped away a few stray tears, before he wheezed and sighed in an attempt to stop his uncontrollable laughter. "… Yep. Crazy," you grumbled, slumping back into the bed, sighing tiredly to yourself as you rubbed at your face, too exhausted to care, anymore.

"I wish I could just be dead already," you groaned, your hand over your face as you rubbed at your face, at your right eye.

Yes, death. The sweet release of death…

Why can't you have that?

No more pain. Suffering. Torment. You just want this life to be over.

Your life sucks.

This sucks.

This just all needs to end already…

Your gaze fell upon a nearby glass. Barely filled with water, now, but it was so close. Maybe if you shatter the glass you could cut yourself. Make yourself bleed a bit. At least knock yourself out for a while so you could stop thinking so much.

The kids… Rosie.

Maybe… they really don't need you. You've just caused trouble anyways.

Maybe the easiest thing would be to walk into the belly of the beast and never step out. Let the demons and devils you've been avoiding all this time consume you completely… Why did your mother damn you like this?

Why do you have to be cursed?

"Child… Lara?... **Clara**," you heard a voice, so blunt and strict, that it was enough to snap you out of your dark thoughts.

If only for a moment.

But what truly brought you back was the stare you were getting. The face right up against your own, with a slight look of fright in his bright glinted green gaze that it was enough to blink in confusion, before rubbing your sore head. "Ah… sorry –"

"Don't be. I shouldn't have pushed anything," he responded, your gaze following his for a moment before you scoffed, pushing his shoulder to get his face away from yours as you slowly sat back up in the bed, wishing you could just stand to your feet, already.

"No, no… I was being too judgmental. I just have a hard time trusting people. That's all," you decided to say, giving him a meek smile before glancing away and frowning.

Ugh! Lying in this bed doing nothing is starting to mess with your head. You could use a drink or two right about now, but alas, you doubt you'd be given a beer or anything if you just asked. You are seemingly very young… and you are, but still.

"I understand," he stated, though you wonder if he really does or not, but instead he gave you a sudden pat on the head, causing you to give him a confused look as he silently left the room, his tray in his hands as he disappeared down the hallway.

What… was that about?

But you sighed, rubbing your sore head before you slowly slumped into the bed, closing your eyes with a slight pout lining your face.

You're sick of people referring to you to one relative or the other. How you're never just, well, **you**. It's insulting, if you outright admit it, but of course you doubt he'd know that.

You couldn't help but stare up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Well… maybe you could stay for a little while, but you need to find those kids. If they're dead, then what was the point of all of this? Recovering, only to find the entire world has burned around you.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You don't know how, or when, but you finally managed to stand on your own too feet without tumbling to the floor, though the pain in your side was still throbbing. But now, you could roam around this mortuary, and the thought of exploring was enough to keep you motivated to move about.

First, you noticed you must be on the ground floor, for you could hear footsteps above your head as you left the tiny room you had been confined to and reached the thin, rather cramped hallway. Using the wall to keep you upright, you reached the end of the hallway, after passing a few closed doors that you figured held decaying corpses, to notice a rather spacious room filled with pristine looking caskets and coffins, lining the floors, the sides of the room, and one seemed to be used as a table with a bunch of stuff on top. But, you wandered over to a desk covered in paperwork, your hands picking up some of the paper to read it, before discarding it onto the desk to glance at the large bookshelf.

Dusty, filled with very old books, you couldn't help but notice nothing was… off. You picked up a medical book, filled with diagrams of bodies in all sorts of poses and styles, from bones to muscle all the way to skin, but the book was dated 1837…

That's not right, is it?

"Does he know what he's even doing?" you scoffed at an eerie thought. Maybe you are kidnapped by some deranged killer and you're his next play victim.

But something else caught your eyes as you noticed a particular piece of paper, and you picked it up to notice it was a profile of one of the deceased. "1880?... What?" you mumbled in confusion when you realized the death date, your eyes picking up another sheet of paper to notice the same date, but a different day, month, and year. 1881…

Wait. Did something happen while you were knocked out?

Did the reapers rewrite history or something? Chop out the last few centuries to give themselves more time to prepare? Or…

Was something else at play?...

Why… are you the only one here? Why haven't you seen the others? Surely Rosie would have gone out of her way to find you.

Unless she really thinks you died. That's a possibility too –

"_What are you looking at~?_" you heard a familiar, creepy voice right behind you, but before he could snicker you held the piece of paper in your hand up in his face, causing him to pause as you let a scoff leave your breath.

"What year is this?" you asked, bluntly, and he gave you a confused look.

"Whatever do you mean? –"

"The year? Day? Month? Tell me, what does the newspaper say?" you asked, again, and you figured he was seeing you as a complete crazy person, but hey. So is he, now isn't he?

"… February 7, 1881, of course. Why do you ask? –"

"Shit. God damn it, are you serious?" you scoffed, putting the paper back down on the desk, your eyes darting around before you scrambled to the front door, shocking the man temporarily as you opened the dusty and old looking door to look outside.

The streets… were cobblestone. Not cerement.

There were no cars, but you noticed a carriage being pulled by a horse rushing down the street, shocking you into stepping back into the building before you could get run over.

What the?...

Why are you?...

You slumped there, your hands on the door knob with wide, confused eyes, your body trembling slightly at the possibility that, yes, you time traveled. How? You're still confused about that. You replayed the events in your head. Everything that you could possibly remember. The fighting, the fear, the resolve to keep fighting to the bitter end. The pain in your side. Heck, you can't even recall when you were slashed across the chest, but…

That… clock.

You were called out of your deadly dance by Rosie because you hit a clock, and before you knew it…

"… Hmm…" you mumbled, your face growing from fright and confusion to a stern uncertainty, though you were becoming more and more sure of your current situation.

Which means…

The others. Did you leave them behind to suffer? Is that why you weren't found in a massive pile with them, and buried somewhere in the reaper realm? Surely that's the case… You **hope** that's the reason.

Even if this is some happy accident, or a terrible nightmare, the thought of dooming everyone else… is scary. It truly is. What if you mess up, again? If you couldn't save your future, then how could you possibly believe you can rewrite the past? All by yourself? Even when everyone began to take you seriously, try to use your little insights to change, it was too late. Now, sure, you can try again, but no one knows you. No one thinks you're some chosen one that can save everyone. A creature created for the purpose of attempting to correct past mistakes.

They're just going to happen, regardless if you want them to or not, and it'll be all your fault for not stopping them.

You didn't realize it, but you crying, a stray hand reaching up to brush a tear away, but more took its place. This… burden. It's terribly overwhelming. You hated to cry like this, but… you can't help yourself. But before you began to tumble to your knees, your legs unable to support your weight anymore, you felt arms wrapping around you from behind in an attempt to comfort you.

That didn't mean his efforts helped, but at least his presence is a strange comfort. To you. Like a baby blanket or a pacifier is to a little infant.

It took you a while to stop crying, to stop whimpering like a scared puppy, but eventually you relaxed, not at all pushing the man away. You… didn't care anymore. What's the point in caring too much, anyways? But, you had this feeling you should probably explain yourself so you wiped a few more stray tears, probably making your face look red and puffy and your eyes bloodshot, but you pushed that disgusted feeling in yourself away and instead slowly turn to face the concerned looking man. "I'm… sorry for scaring you like this."

"It is fine," he chuckled, waving off your apology, but no. It's not alright, and the tired, sad look on your face was enough to make his grinning slow into a slight line. "Or perhaps not? I understand if you don't wish to tell me, but –"

"I don't think secrecy matters anymore," you sighed, reluctantly, suddenly standing to your feet and stumbling your way back over to the messy desk and dusty bookshelf, looking everything over as you pondered how you'd explain this.

But the thought of not being direct was a bit maddening. If there's anything that you're good at, and bad at, would be being direct with people. Not beating around the bush when it's absolutely necessary to. It's a strength and a vice, but hey, that's how you are. Maybe it's genetic, maybe you learned that from your father, but either way that's just how you tend to be. It's easier that way, anyways.

"What… I'm about to tell you is crazy. I know. I can understand if you don't believe me," you began, your hands reaching for another scrap of paper, reading the death date on the sheet. 'January 30th 1881' flashed in front of your face, causing you to pout as you placed the paper back down, but your hand threatened to crumple half of it in your tightening grasp. You wanted to say it, your thoughts… your worries, your revelation, but your voice caught in your throat.

You've been rather weird, now haven't you? Would this be the turning point? Would he toss you out after this? Even if you were stranger, all of the sudden, the thought of abandonment in a world you could never fully understand hit you like a ton of bricks. It stung more then moving. Losing your mother. Trying to accept this reaper blood you apparently have. Realizing that there's more to this world then just… being human. All of it. You've been tumbling and tumbling, and did you really want to fall any deeper into this hole others have created? It's not like you had a choice, but if you keep your mouth shut, maybe you can hold onto something? Your sanity, perhaps?

This could just all be a dream, though, but no dream could be this vivid, but… the thought of waking up in your own pool of blood on the ground… or perhaps this is purgatory. Limbo. That's a possibility too, and you just have to realize that to break this illusion.

But no illusion is this vivid. So, it can't be fake, which means…

"… Lara?" you head his voice, calling to you in an attempt to awaken you from your thoughts. Realizing what you had done, again, you glanced at him, giving him a meek smile before frowning and looking away. You… didn't want to talk. You just don't. This is all so… scary, but as he noticed your tears starting to form back in the corners of your bright eyes, you could feel his arms wrapping around you, again. A strange black blanket that seemed to shield you from the rest of the cruel and unforgiving world.

"Sorry," was all you could mumble in reply, feeling defeated, but mainly just tired. You're tired of overthinking, of worrying so much. You just want this all to end –

"I may not understand what is going on in your mind, but perhaps you can explain to me your thoughts? You're becoming worrisome," he explained, simply, hoping to cox you into talking, and you gripped his sleeves tightly, still deciding if you should tell him the truth or not. "… _Or perhaps~_ we can have some lunch. I was making our supper when you started stirring."

"Food… sounds nice," you mumbled in reply, feeling like a weak, defenseless puppy… or rather, a weak human that can't do anything right, but you let the man guide you up a set of stairs you didn't actually notice, to an upper floor you didn't think existed. Yeah, you could hear footsteps, but you thought maybe it was someone's living quarters, but of course why would anyone want to live above a mortuary if they weren't working there, anyways?

You let yourself drift down and sit into a chair that was offered to you, your eyes tired and glazed over while you stared blankly at the wooden table. After a while, you sighed. You realized your throat was dry, in desperate need of water, but you could last without basic things for a while longer. You don't want to trouble your host, after all.

But you felt… dead. More like a ghost. A phantom, drifting from one place to the next… Is that all you are? A Phantom? Maybe you **are** becoming more and more like one… and you don't like that.

Not one bit.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: I couldn't wait. I had to post another chapter!**

**I promise this is probably the last chapter, for today/tonight. I decided to wait to post this next chapter, but only a tad. I'm rereading/reviewing my chapters, at least some of them, and I wanted to get one more out of the way before I moved on and continued to write some more.**

**So… yeah. If I was thrown back in time, in a period I barely understand, I'd freak out. **_**But that's just me~**_

**Anyways, this is the start. I may use the same title for different chapters, but that's because I don't want to come up with new chapters, every single chapter. Just think of this as a part 2 or continuation of the chapter 02. Whatever. It doesn't matter too much to me. **

**I noticed these chapters… could be longer. Some are quite long, but at first I was going to post this on my wattpad account, but then I noticed just how long these chapters are going to be. That I tend to rant and take a while to fully play out a scene, so I decided to post it here, on my account. I can write a lot more and not feel like I'm overloading the internet page too much. But, yeah. Sometimes I have sentences that **

**Break off**

**Like this, but other times they're long paragraphs… they may not look long in the format, but they are when I'm typing them out. **

**And just so you guys know, I picked the picture out of only… three anime girl pics I had saved on my computer. Why? Because when I did, I was on a retreat and I had no internet reception, but I liked this picture. So, I decided to keep it for this story's cover. Also, 'A Twist in Time', I had already started writing a story with this same title and stopped writing it, taking it off of my wattpad account. I think it was another Kuroshitsuji story… but I was thinking of what sort of title I'll use, and I liked that particular title. It's not as lengthy as my usual titles, but I like it.**

**Personally. **

**I think this title fits for this particular story. And yes, this story starts in 1881. Before the events of the Black Butler manga. Before Vincent dies. Slowly the other characters will be introduced, but this is mainly a UndertakerXOC story. It'll be about them and their relationship… at least for the beginning. The plot may pick up later, but for now this is where we're at. Why I decided to call it a 'drama' instead of a 'suspense' story or an 'adventure' story. While I love adventure stories, I'm not the best at writing them. **

**But yeah. I think that's about it. I'm glad if you guys are reading this story, and I hope you're ENJOYING it! Please COMMENT if you have any questions or just want to chat. I'll try my best to chat with you guys. Maybe get some input for this story? Once again, I'm kind of just writing this as a stress reliever. I rarely have time to do any sort of art, these days, and typing is one of the only things I can do to relieve stress. **

**So, yeah! Enjoy the rest of your week! And maybe I'll post another chapter before the end of the week? Maybe just later…**


	4. The Start of a New Era 3

**A/N: HEY GUYS! I'M BACK!**

**Considering I'm still a bit excited to post/reread over my story, and I'm currently writing through a very fun part, for me, in this story, I decided to post another set of chapters tonight… Though, I posted this 4****th**** chapter right away. The other ones will show up later… or just one more? I haven't decided, yet.**

**Anyways, I hope you guys are enjoying where this story is going. After this, it kind of gets a tad ranty. I slowly reveal more and more, but it took me some time to do it.**

**And yes… it's kind of obvious what happens. You end up staying with the Undertaker, for one reason or another, for a time. Yes, yes.**

**But the time period? At first, I wasn't sure about it. 1880. It's a bit early for anything to happen, but it's the perfect opportunity for Clara to get introduced to a slew of characters. After all, I wish we had more Madam Red, for example, and we only see Ciel's parents except in flashbacks. That's the part of this story I'm currently writing, which is why I said earlier that the plot is a bit slow. At first, I was going to jump right in and talk about reapers and demons and, blah, blah. However, considering 'Sebastian' isn't quite in the picture yet, and there's still some time before that happens, I can spend time with the other characters. So that's fun.**

**But, I won't go off into a big rant.**

**I'm thinking… this story will probably end up as a romance between Undertaker and the OC protagonist, Clara. But, it may take a while. I know most stories, the UndertakerXOC jump into romance and kissing and stuff kind of happens quickly. Within the first few chapters, they're already in love. Well… let's just say Clara and Undertaker both have their baggage to bear. So, there you go.**

**And heck, if I jumped in time, I don't think I'd be very interested in romance, right off the bat.**

**Okay, I'll stop talking now. I hope you guys ENJOY, and thank you for READING my story, so far. Your support is greatly appreciated!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"So you see, I'm from a terrible fated future… and… maybe I'm here to stop it from happening? Or maybe I'm the cause," you mumbled underneath your breath at your last thought before looking up and giving the man an unsure look. You told him practically everything. Well, everything having to pertain to your predicament. Not your background, but just the facts.

The fact that, some guy claiming to be your father took you away after your mother died to train you as a grim reaper. The fact that, after his death, you learned the truth about everything. About some prophecy that he was hoping could become fulfilled with you. Whatever that prophecy actually was, you don't really know, because it was around that same time everything in your life went to utter shit. Lives were lost, souls were lost… the reason why you're concerned about a bunch of kids cause they're the 'future'. It doesn't matter if you survived. Just that they did.

That's all you honestly care about, right now, but considering where you are and that you must have been thrown back through time. "… I'm not sure if this is another timeline completely or I was just put into a time where I could start changing the future. Either way, this creates a strange paradox, which makes me concerned that my world really did end," you decided to continue, but noticing his silence you looked over at him with a frown adorning your face. "So… what do you think?"

"Hmmm?" he questioned you, letting a soft hum leave his breath while you let a snort leave your own.

"You must think I'm crazy, right? A loon. Made this all up. Want proof or something," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him from across the table. "Come on. I'm tired of you reapers giving me the silent treatment all the time. Just tell me what you're thinking already," you growled lowly, but your irritation only grew, just slightly, at the slight, but weak sounding giggle that left his breath at your words.

"Reapers… huh. I suppose we are a rather aloof set of creatures," he snickered to himself, your eyes narrowing, but before you could open your mouth he sighed and sat up in his chair. "Fine. Child. If you wish to hear my thoughts, I think this is all rather absurd –"

"See," you mumbled, but he continued as if you hadn't interrupted him with your own side comment.

"However… if everything you said is true, it would explain your weird clothing," he told you, and you couldn't help but give him an unsure look.

"Ah… where did my clothes go?"

"Decided to burn them, but I checked your pockets, just in case. I didn't find anything of value. Was there something precious in the clothes?" he asked in a curious tone, but you simply sat back in your chair and pouted.

"No. Not really… it's just a matter of time, I suppose," you spoke cryptically, not giving him a chance to ask what you meant as you continued, "but, other then my school clothes, there isn't a lot of evidence, is there? I doubt my death weapon was beside me when I woke up."

"_Oooh~?_ And what makes you say that?" he smirked, but you shook your head at his question.

"I didn't obtain my weapon through the Grim Reaper Association… if that's what you call that group in this day and age. No, I summoned it on my own. Used my own soul energy. It's as connected to me as breathing and water," you stated, patting your chest to emphasize your point, and noticing his intrigued look, you continued with a scoff, "I am half reaper, you know."

"Perhaps, but such a practice of creating one's death scythe out of your soul was deemed too dangerous, by the high council –"

"It may be dangerous, but it's necessary. A weapon created by hands of man and a weapon created by your own soul have two distinctive properties. Sure, weapons grim reapers tend to use can be utilized easily. You can swap weapons if the fighting calls for it. You don't have to keep it with you at all times, but a soul weapon is ten times more powerful. Much more lethal, but most importantly it can take down an angelic or demonic force with ease. I don't need to cut into the damn thing ten thousand times and say some stupid little prayer to do so. It's quick, easy, and effective," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you slumped back into your chair, but your anger dissipated as a different thought entered your mind. "… Besides. I wouldn't be able to fight if I hadn't created my own weapon through my own soul. Those stuck up assholes weren't going to give me a death weapon. I had to figure it out, through my own means."

"Interesting," he responded with a slight hum of his breath, giving you a curious look before continuing, "was it because you were a female?"

"That's probably half of the problem," you scoffed, recalling the arguments you had gotten into, even with your own father, but you used to feel bad. It's just an old way of thinking that needed to end, if he kept hoping you'd be some sort of salvation for them. "Even in my time, with women's rights and such, these ancient butts insisted that women needed to stand on the sidelines while the men wielded the death weapons. Well, their ways had been stomped out by the female reapers eventually. A whole group of them even went rogue and disappeared into the human world, remerging as some badasses, practically like Amazonian warriors from ancient times," you smiled at the thought before continuing with a snort. "But when everything did turn into shit, even the women had to pick up weapons to fight. Considering they weren't trained to do so, a lot more fell to the claws of demons and the swords of angels then the men.

"For all you reapers saying that you're smart and retain knowledge, you are just as narrowminded and stupid as any other creature I've met," you finished with a huff, but he could only snicker lightly in response.

"True, true. Reapers can be very set in their ways… What sort of death scythe is it?" he asked curiously, but noticing the darkened look that overcame your features at the question, his lips closed as he thought of something else to ask, only for you to sigh deeply and rub the side of your forehead in irritation, or perhaps tiredness.

"It's not necessary for you to know. Besides, I'm still recovering. I cannot handle summoning my weapon at a moment's whim like a regular grim reaper. Until I'm at 100%, it's best I just… take it easy," you smiled meekly before slumping your arms onto the table, sighing as you plopped your head onto one of your hands. You eyed him from across the table with a curious gleam in your own gaze. "… So… How do you even live in an era like this? What is it? The… 19th century? Dear God, I'm going to have to act like a snooty stuck up Brit, aren't I?" you pouted at the thought, but hearing your thoughts out loud made the man snicker in response, causing your frown to only deepen. "I'm being serious."

"Brit? Are you not British?" he giggled lightly, causing you to pause before you gave him a slight smirk in return.

"No. No I'm not. Born and raised in the good old U.S. of A… I'm American," you stated, bluntly when he seemed to be staring at you blankly, before you scoffed and continued, "I'm from the United States of America, though I'm not quite sure the state I'm from has been founded yet… I think so. But I was forced to move after my mother died, though I do enjoy the rough accents you Brits have," you smirked lightly before giving him a curious look. "Why? Do I act like I'm from _jolly old England~_ or something?"

"Not at all, but if you're wondering… Perhaps you should tell people you are a foreigner, to make our customs easier to digest and understand," he told you with a smile, but all you could do is scoff and shake your head as you looked back to the food still on his plate.

"… Are you really willing to let me stick around as an apprentice?" you decided to ask, a thoughtful look lining your face as he cast you a curious glance from the other side of the table. "To be honest with you, I never was fond of being a reaper. It was purely out of necessity… Plus, I've worked with corpses before, if you're wondering. Maybe it's luck I ended up in a mortuary, of all places, though you may not use the same tools I did," you decided to say, letting out a light thoughtful hum before giving him a curious glance. "… Well? I mean, I get that you gave me a choice, and for that I am thankful, but I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"I wouldn't have offered the position if I thought you wouldn't be helpful," he smirked, causing you to cast him an annoyed glance as he continued with a grin on his face, "_but~_… you know your way around corpses, you say?"

"I spent a lot of time around the dead, but I actually did some mortuary work when I was in middle school. So… at least four years? Probably five?" you told him, thinking for a moment before continuing, "But if you want something else… you're going to have to be specific. Yes, you've been helping me out and I'm grateful, but if you demand something rather impossible I'm going to have to refuse," you scoffed, but your words made him giggle at a particular thought, before he sighed, picked at his plate, and plopped some food into his mouth and chewed before giving you a reply.

"Truthfully? You're an utter delight to be around," he grinned, but seeing your skeptical response he continued, "you're interesting responses and words are _hilarious~_. So, all I'll ask for is for some laughter from your presence, and you could help me around the shop a bit. I'll provide a place to sleep and some food to eat. What do you think?" he offered, your eyes giving him an unsure glance before you sighed, shrugged, and slowly sat up in your chair.

"Just that? Nothing more? Like, you're not going to expect me to be your bodyguard or something? Or to act all 'proper'," you scoffed, giving him air quotes as you continued, "or even expect me to kill humans for you or something? Or even have sex with you? Cause I'm not in the mood to be played like that," you huffed. "I've had enough of being forced to do things I don't particularly like doing, but if you want jokes or something, I suppose I could try that," you decided to say, waiting for his response to your concerns.

You were met with a light chuckle, of course, before he sighed, grinning in delight, and shook his head at you. "All I ask is for some laughter and for some work to be done around the shop. That's about it."

"Really?" you scoffed, but instead of grinning he only gave you a curious look.

"_Why do you think the worst of my intentions~?_" he asked, causing you to pause before giving him a pout in response. "I can only repeat myself _so many times~_"

"Because from what I've seen, everyone just wants to use me and they never respect me as a human being. Or even just a creature, for that matter. Reapers, demons, angels, whatever. So sorry if I cannot believe you," you told him, bluntly, a bit too bluntly for your own liking, but you needed to. Had to. He asked so… why lie, at this point? You already showed your hand, all the cards in your hands. It's not like you can really hide anything else. Maybe some minor details, but nothing more than that.

"Maybe in due time," he responded, though he seemed to be talking to himself instead of directly at you, and he stood to his feet, giving you a grin before snatching your already eaten plate, and made his way to the sink to wash the dishes. "If you wish, you may start tomorrow. I understand how antsy reapers can be with new jobs."

"… Thanks," you decided to say, not sure if you should be happy about the thought of finally doing something productive, or annoyed that you have to work tomorrow. "… Sorry. I just figured I should be direct, is all," you apologized, realizing your behavior has been rather rude, but sometimes you just need to be. You don't like beating around the bush, like so many others tend to do.

"I do not mind, but you don't have to apologize whenever you think you're doing something wrong," he responded, causing you to give him a curious look, but he simply grinned as he made his way back to you, leaving the dirty dishes sitting in the sink as he suddenly held out a covered hand towards you. "Now, my dear, perhaps I should _show~_ you around the shop_. I wouldn't want you getting lost~~_" he giggled, causing you to scoff at his words, but cautiously accept the hand he offered to you.

He noticed your hesitation, but he didn't shy away as you used his hand to help yourself out of the chair. You cast him a weary, skeptical look, but he simply grinned, holding out his hand for you to walk out the door, first, and with a reluctant glance you did so, patiently waiting for him to follow behind you before you dared to continue down the dark, rather narrow hallways this building seemed to have.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You were honestly surprised how spacious the place was. Three floors, if you count the basement where most of the bodies are being kept, the second floor being used for living quarters while the ground floor was another work space, as well as a receiving room for anyone that could possibly stop by.

But, what really relaxed your anxiety was the back door. You didn't realize there was a back door, a bit hidden around a corner where coats and shoes could be placed to not dirty the already old floorboards, but it was the only building down the street that led outside into a cemetery. You assumed this is where most of the bodies are placed, or at least the ones that are miscellaneous and have no real family to claim them. Rows upon rows of graves, some marked, some barely marked, lined the hillsides in perfect unison. There was a tool shed where most of the tools for the graveyard are kept, and even a little stable where you found an old wooden cart… but no animal to pull the cart.

How disappointing.

But it was the cemetery itself that made you smile, and you didn't wait for permission to go exploring. Of course, you accepted the boots and coat he gave you to wear, but the moment that was over with, you were off.

It like being home again! In the far off corner of the cemetery, where you assumed the oldest of the gravesites lay, was a little chapel for funeral services, and probably daily services as well. There were a few family mausoleums fairly close to the chapel, but as you walked further, deeper into the overgrown brush and the drooping trees, you found much older, abandoned gravesites. Some with their letterings washed away by the elements, while a few others you could faintly read. It look… like an old form of English, or maybe some other language. Like maybe Celtic or whatever. Your curiosity was enough to make you wonder if you should try to find a book on reading runes and other old 'dead' languages, but you stopped as you noticed a particular tree, sitting up on the highest hill in the cemetery. Like it was a bounty line between the old graves, hidden away in the overgrown wilderness and left behind for the elements, and the nearer graves, probably kept in tact and upkept by the Undertaker himself… or someone else. Maybe paid for by the church, perhaps.

But you found yourself stopping at the top of the hill, inspecting the tree with a strange sense of curiosity. A large, great oak tree, and to think such a thing will be cut down in the near future. The thought made you sad for a moment, before you smiled to yourself, glancing around to oversee both the graves, the back of the large buildings, and even a few blocks further into London.

You must be on the edge of the city. That's the only way you could have such a view! And behind you were grassy pastures and patches of untapped land. Land that'll probably be bought and sold by nobles, to be used for factories or farming or whatever else.

You couldn't help yourself. Out of all the time you've spent in this time period, this is the only thing that seemed to bring a comfort to you. A cemetery. A graveyard. No matter where you go or what you have to do, if you need to have a quiet place to think over your thoughts, any graveyard will do. It's such a quiet place… a bit abandoned, sometimes, but always quiet. Always soothing. While others would think it's creepy, you think this is your peace. Your true home. Because… no matter how many times you have to pack up your belongings and begin anew, a cemetery is always the same. Always has the same presence.

Death.

Death is always here, always lingering. A perfect boundary point between the living and the dead. The humans and… everything else. If you were ever running from a demon, a gravesite always stopped them. As if there's some invisible wall they simply cannot pass through… Well, they could, but not when you step inside. It's your place of security. And… maybe…

Maybe you can learn to be okay with this… strange place. Everything always feels so strange, these days.

You weren't surprised to notice a familiar presence coming closer. Usually, you'd be utterly terrified. Like any human, confused and startled. But this time, you could tell he was coming. You didn't even have to look over to notice the pale man, veiled in darkness, making his way up the hill with a grin on his face. You couldn't tell if he found this amusing or he was simply curious, but you gave him a glance before turning away, staring off at a slowly setting sun over the horizon before you sighed contently to yourself. "I was worried, after everything, that I lost something. I'm glad I didn't… I could tell you were approaching, you know," you smirked in his direction, completely content and happy with your heightened abilities, and he gave you another giggling snicker before finally making his way to the top of the hill.

"Is **that** what has been bothering you?" he asked, or perhaps stated, but as you leaned into the trunk of the tree, feeling a strange warmth radiating from the bark as the bare branches attempted to give you a bit of shade from the sunlight, he gave you a curious glance, expecting a response, but when you didn't give him one he let his own light smile appear on his own face. "You're like a child."

"So I've been told," you scoffed in annoyance, but then you glanced over at him and gave him a light smile. "I mean, I bet I am, compared to one of you. Even the little munchkins were years ahead of me. Though, doesn't mean they're more intelligent then myself," you decided to say, causing a snicker to leave his breath.

"_Munchkins~?_"

"Sorry. Kids," you decided to say, but hearing him snickering you turned and gave him a scoff. "Hey. Don't insult me by snickering."

"I apologize," he grinned, though you could tell he was holding back a giggle, and you sighed, glancing away, eventually feeling your frustration melting away and being replaced with a content serenity.

You could tell he was eying you curiously. Maybe suspiciously, but it's not like you cared. Not now, while you're in a perfect spot. Where no worries bothered you, at least not as much as they usually do. You slowly closed your eyes. If you could, you'd sleep here forever. Never worrying about the future, the past, the present, whatever. Having no cares in the world. An eternal slumber… it sounds so nice, but you know it cannot be so. Not yet. It's not your time.

Slowly, you let your eyes flicker open, and you could feel a strange overwhelming power radiating out of your body, but you didn't let yourself feel panicked. Or frightened. Rather, you were content as you began to say, "It's times like now I'm glad I'm a human. At least, I didn't commit myself to being a full fletched reaper," you decided to say, mainly for yourself then anyone else, but when you glanced over you noticed the man was staring at you intently, and you gave him a curious, but lighthearted grin. "_Want to say~ something?_"

"… I can see how your part grim," he decided to say, the strange tone in his voice causing you to blush just slightly, but suddenly you felt a bony finger on your chin, forcing you to tilt your head upward so he could see right into your eyes.

But you blinked. First, out of utter confusion and irritation, but the next from slight surprise. You could see his bright shinigami eyes, staring right into your own gaze. Two different shades of greenish gold, separated by a double iris. The same for all grim reapers, but if you look closely, there is a slight difference. His eyes seemed… old. Wise. Bright and ancient. A perfect glowing swirl of both lightened emerald green and sharp golden.

It was strangely hypnotic… but you slowly pulled away, after you finally broke the strange trance by blinking and taking a step backward, to give you some much needed distance.

"You're a lot older then I thought," you had to admit in a curious tone, causing the man to smirk and then snicker lightly at your observation.

"And you, my dear, are quite interesting yourself."

"How so?" you decided to ask, leaning back against the comforting tree to give him a glance, letting your bangs sway to cover parts of your face and shield some of the heightened senses you suddenly had. Not that you needed to really see in perfect 20/20 vision, but still.

"It's… been a while since I've seen a human so entuned with the dead. I understand you were born by a woman, fathered by a reaper, but even so, I haven't seen something quite like yourself in a _**very~**__ long time_," he told you, your eyes staring at his face for a brief moment, even seeing past his white veil to stare into his own reaper gaze, but then you looked away and smiled meekly to yourself.

"I was a last attempt to write all wrongs. Make the world right again. Avoid a doomsday, but, everything your kind and other creatures have done will eventually cause the end of days. By the time I'm born, it's too late… Though, sometimes I wonder if one could still live in such a decrepit state. There are tales from other mythologies of 'three' or 'five' different worlds humans pass through. Maybe another age was going to be created. I don't know," you shrugged, hoping that was honestly the case. That you hadn't condemned everything to brimstone and ashes. To terror and hellfire.

"My father… doesn't, or rather didn't, care about who I was as a human. He needed a savior… that just wasn't me. The plan these reapers made produced nothing. Just half breeds that couldn't accomplish the overwhelming plans they cooked up. Even if anyone survived, in the end, that doesn't mean the world will be the same again," you frowned, recalling all the training you had to do, the secrets you kept, and still have to keep, close to your person. Slowly, you closed your eyes and sighed, a tired tone in your voice. "I'm… tired. I may not even be twenty years old, but I'm just tired of everything. The demands, expectations… I don't care if I'm strong or not. I never felt like I belong anywhere, anyways," you scoffed, suddenly standing upright before turning to look over at the Undertaker, and you gave him a curious look. "Now that I think about it… you've seen creatures like myself? Where? How? N-no seems quite like me."

"Hmm… you could say they are humans, who called themselves demi-gods, and expected a hero's death," he began, your eyes betraying your thoughts as you stared at him utterly confused, but he continued with a light hearted chuckle, "I mean, if I were to take a guess, this father of yours attempted to use you as a way to right the wrongs the grim reapers started. Maybe he read some ancient textbook or something, but such knowledge of old is off limits… for most," he smirked deviously, causing you to give him a curious look before you turned to look at him fully, your hand leaning upon the tree to keep yourself upright as you offset your balance.

"Then, I couldn't just be the only one? There could be others out there just as odd as I am?" you asked, a suddenly hopeful tone in your voice, and you could tell your questions weren't what he was expecting, as he stared, a bit startled, before giving you a light, but sad smile in return.

"A certain set of… steps and procedures need to take place, but yes. The possibility of extremely strong reapers are possible, but the way your predecessor did it…" he paused, perhaps wondering if he should tell you or not, but then he continued in a calm, calculating tone of voice. "You have the ability to die, sooner then any reaper. You can live your life as a human, without ever having to worry about magic or power, but the moment you began to train like a grim reaper, to hone any skills you may possess, your human life was shortened."

"… Yeah," you scoffed, deciding to respond as you waved your free hand at his words, "I know that. I'm not expecting to live past forty, even if I reach that point. Still, you said **human** life. D-don't tell me there's more after this existence," you frowned. The thought of living any longer then you expected was maddening, to you.

"Well," he began, deciding to respond to put your mind at relative ease, "even if you've summoned a death scythe from your very soul, it doesn't mean you'll become a reaper in the end. Grim reapers, us deathlings, are created because of our own choices and sins. In fact, if you kill yourself, right now, at this moment, a degree of your own powers will disappear into nothingness. Probably a reason why you've been told to not commit suicide, I'm guessing," he decided to say, a thoughtful look on his face as he continued, "but, there is a catch."

"W-what?" you had to ask, not liking the foreboding tone in his voice. You were grateful he was doing this, telling you this information, but that doesn't mean you're excited to hear everything. You know, or rather understand, some knowledge is best kept secret.

And… this may be one of those secrets that would have been best kept in the dark.

"If… well, firstly, if you hear a particular voice in your head –"

"Death," you stated, bluntly, causing the man to pause for a moment before continuing, though his tone of voice seemed a bit sterner and unnerving.

"If you hear… yes, Death, in your head, and the world, especially the children of Death, are in desperate need of a powerful entity…"

"… W-what? Please, don't stop. I need to know this," you asked, stated. Had to say. You could tell he was hesitating, but you needed the question answered, not more questions. This reaper knows more then what he's letting on, at first, and you need to know the answer. Now.

"Considering what you told me, you were bred and trained to be reborn, after your death, as an overpowered grim reaper. A death that could take out almost any star in the sky and any darkness in the abyss. I mean, while Death may be in your head, as long as it doesn't possess you, you should be fine," he grinned, hoping his ending conclusion to the problem was enough to put you at ease. "If Death isn't using you as a messenger for the living, then you should be allowed to die. Like any other human. After some time has passed."

But, as he saw that you weren't responding, he took a cautious step over, close enough that he wasn't exactly right in front of your face, but close to the point that you could feel his looming presence right in front of your slightly trembling body. "… Lara? Did I say too much, perhaps? I doubt –"

"Possession… Y-you **sure** that's the reason? What? Is it like Death claims you or something? Like a slave?" you frowned, looking up at him, but noticing his slightly startled look you quickly wiped a stray tear away, feeling your reaper energy dissipating as you began to feel hesitant by the entire thing, but… it would explain some stuff. A lot of things you were taught that you felt was… strange. Even for a grim reaper's child.

"Slave is a harsh word –"

"But it is, isn't it? You wake up, exhausted and confused, and wonder what happened, only for others to think you're some oracle sent to give them some reassuring words. **Right**?" Your tone was a bit sharper then you wanted it to be, but you didn't care. "Then… that's what they wanted. For me to eventually die and get reborn, probably forgetting my past life, again. Again, and again. Reliving and never dying and never getting any sort of real peace," you pouted, quickly swiping some stray tears away from your face.

The world felt so… cruel, now. Why can't you just get to die like everyone else? You want to, you really do. That's why you would fight with sweet abandon, without a care as you cut down your enemies, but… if what he's saying is true…

"… I am a monster, then," you stated, rather then questioned, but before you knew it you could feel arms suddenly wrapping around you, pulling your body off of the tree and into strangely warm, comforting arms. Usually, you'd be angry, but right now… you were too tired to care.

"I should have stopped while I was ahead," he responded, sighing to himself, "so, I'll apologize," he continued, hoping his words would bring you just the slightest bit of comfort.

Sadly, they didn't. "… You didn't know. It's okay, I guess," you decided to say, a bit unsure if you should accept his apology or not, but instead you slumped into his grasp, enjoying his warmth before suddenly pulling away and giving him a meek smirk. "But I mean, hey. I'm not dead yet. So I suppose I won't have to worry about such a thing happening to me," you smiled, weakly, but at least you were smiling.

You guess.

It was enough to cause the man to smile in response, though you had a feeling it was also forced. "Yes. You are alive… Perhaps we should go back inside, into the warmth," he told you, hoping to pull you away from the terrible conversation the two of you had.

Again.

Seriously, what's with this guy? Ever since you met him it's been one bad conversation over and over again. Telling him too much and learning too much. Nothing is going right, is it? You just can't be happy.

But, you didn't argue or complain as you were pulled away, lightly, down the hill and back towards the back door to the mortuary building. "I _was~_ thinking, since you'll be my little assistant, perhaps we should have you fitted for some new clothes, as well."

"What's wrong with my own look?" you responded with a scoff, eagerly accepting an excuse to have a different conversation, one that wasn't about the topic of Death and the apocalypse or any sort of doomsday.

"You have no clothes," he stated, as if your question was stupid to ask, but you scoffed and continued.

"I don't like dresses," you responded, recalling that this era, if you're remembering your history correctly, should be around the time of the Victorian era. Where rules were strict and cumbersome, and the thought of wearing a dress every day, and **especially** a corset, caused a disgusted and irritated look to overcome your features.

But noticing your foul response, he giggled at your rising irritation as he continued, "Perhaps. Yes. A proper lady should always have some decent clothes to wear, but you were wearing a skirt and white blouse, with a sweater. I could see a lot of leg," he responded, grinning crudely as you gave him a swift irritated punch in the arm right next to your own, unable to stop your natural reflexes to fight back, but since he didn't seem mad, only giggled in response, you decided to retort.

"It was my school girl outfit, if you **must** know. I prefer pants, actually. I don't have to worry about anyone seeing too much," you stated, pushing down the nightgown you were wearing on instinct.

He smirked in reply. "Your time must be an _interesting~ one_," he snickered, but you scoffed, suddenly prying your hand away from his, and continuing down the dirt path a bit more quickly then you'd like, with your arms crossed over your chest as you rushed towards the door.

"It was fine. Perfect, even. Anyways, do I have a choice in my clothing or not?" you huffed, but he shrugged his shoulders.

"_Perhaps~_. I'll be requesting a seamstress to come by the shop within the week. In the meantime you'll have to wear the clothes of the dead," he stated, causing you to look at the gown you were wearing, but you gave him an unimpressed look at the devious grin written all over his face.

Ah. He wanted you to freak out. Well, joke's on him. "Fine. Maybe there's a pair of slacks or something I can put on," you stated rather bluntly, surprising him as you swiftly opened the door, plopping the coat he had given you back on the coatrack, before turning on your clunky boots as he stepped back into the small cubby area. "Where can I find these clothes?"

"Downstairs –"

"Great," you responded, not bothering to give him a second glance. You grinned to yourself, glad that you won this round. You surprised him enough that he was responding like a normal being, and you could finally not get laughed at.

It may be one solid victory out of a sea of defeats and draws, but you'll take the win where you can get it.

And, heck, it's amusing to trip up a grim reaper like this. That's for sure.


	5. The Dog's Informant 1

It took some time for your wounds to heal properly. Having the stitches in your side rip apart didn't help, but now you stood in front of a full body mirror, staring at your figure before putting on your clothes for the day.

Scars old and new lined your usually covered body, though honestly you don't mind showing off the more interesting ones every so often. But your fingers trailed over your chest, frowning at the new set of fresh scars. You… could have died. You should have died, and after hearing what Undertaker had to say about your inevitable fate…

No wonder your brother killed himself the way he did. He didn't want to suffer an eternal fate. Body and soul eternally tethered to Death itself. What sort of fate is that?!... Well… maybe it'd be worse if you were turned into some carnivorous demon. Yeah. That'd probably be worse.

But what made you look a bit closer was the fact that the scar that is rather distinct over your right eye wasn't even there. You could still feel the familiar sting of a demonic claw, but… it's not there. At all. As well as a few other scars, now that you're looking. One that went right along your backside. Another claw mark over your torso, and lastly, a very obvious stitched mark around your left ankle. You shuddered. You can still feel that pain in your left foot. Recalling a time when you thought you'd lose the foot entirely and have to use some sort of prosthetic. But, well, you're not exactly human, now are you? Your wounds heal quicker then most, and even if they don't it takes longer for your body to completely decay.

Yet… it's just so strange, to you. The three prong claw mark across your right eyelid, threatening to rip your eye out entirely, was the first permanent wound you ever got. The first time in your life you realized you could die. Get eaten. That you're a target for simply existing. It's… scary. You were scared, but you persevered and trained. Got stronger.

But it's maddening not to see that claw mark across your face. To remember every day why you do the things you do. Why you fight so hard to survive. Even if you seek your death, you still want to live. A terrible paradox… but that's how living is. Right?

Well… you doubt this'll last forever. Heck, maybe when you bring your death weapon back into your grasp, the painful scars and old marks left by demons and the damned with show up again. You decided to just let this be, and instead enjoy the fact that your bright electric blue eyes were staring back at you. The strange silver gleam, twisted with light blues, swirling together in a harmonious tune. Compared to a human, your eyes are rather strange, but to any other supernatural entity, it's fairly mundane.

You sighed, reaching for your clothes and deciding to get your day started. Instead of wearing slacks and looking like some boy, you decided that today you'd actually try to be… feminine. For once. But in your own weird way. So, instead of reaching for pants, you grabbed a long black skirt that reached just above your ankles. Not exactly something you wanted to wear, but a skirt is easier to deal with then a dress… right? At least, that's how you see it.

Whatever. You'll make this work.

You grabbed a white collared shirt, leaving the last button by your neck unbuttoned as you tucked the shirt into your skirt, figuring that's probably the way it should be worn. You slipped on long white socks and put on the clunky boots Undertaker gave you to wear around the shop. They don't exactly fit correctly, but at least they're shoes. And you wouldn't dare walk barefoot, with the old hardwood flooring that could easily give you an unwanted splinter.

Lastly, you reached for a necktie and skillfully placed it around your neck, folding the collar of your shirt down and letting the tie hang rather loosely around your neck. You reached for a sleeveless sweater, knowing it'll be cold in the shop and not wanting to deal with wearing a bellowing black cloak, so instead you slipped on a gray, black, and slightly white plaid sweater, tucking in your tie and popping out your collar so it wouldn't be constricted.

Then, you combed your hair. Your long, uncut, untamed and wild pitch black raven hair. Geeze… you really need a haircut. Your bangs are styled so your hair mainly covers your right eye naturally, and your left eye was a bit more exposed, but now all of your bangs were covering your face, and you'd have to periodically tuck your hairs behind your ears to keep them out of your face. Well, since you're looking decently feminine, not exactly completely, but close enough for you, you began to braid your hairs to pull back your bangs, tying your hair up into a braided crown. You used a hair tie to tie off the braids behind your back, flipping your long hair to hide most of your mismatched hair lengths.

It looked… decent. At least, for today, you won't be mistaken for a little boy anymore.

You sighed to yourself before leaving the tiny guest room Undertaker let you stay in. You insisted that you wouldn't take his bedroom. No way. Not going to happen. Heck, you'd sleep on a couch or a floor before taking someone else's bed away from them, but instead he's letting you stay in the guest room. You're currently sleeping on an old mattress on the floor, but it's better then the ground, you suppose.

And you weren't sleeping in a coffin or a casket. No matter how comfortable it may be, no way.

You noticed Undertaker wasn't in the kitchen, which means he already started the work for the day. It's… a bit too easy around here. He'll sleep until he decides to wake up, and rarely opens the shop until after eleven. At least. Heck, if you're up early enough he'll give you some breakfast, but all you wanted right now was some water and something to munch on.

But after you were done with your little breakfast, you made your way down the stairs, not quite sure where the man actually was, and checked the sign. The shop was open, so… you turned around, went into the very cramped hallway to grab some cleaning supplies, and went back into the parlor room, placing the stuff down before picking up the bucket to fill it up out back with water.

The place was a mess. An utter mess, and you hate that.

You may not live in the easiest of conditions, but if there's one thing you have to do is clean. At first, the man wasn't exactly happy that you were getting rid of the massive cobwebs and cleaning the windows, wiping the dust away and sweeping dirt and grime out the front and back doors, but then you insisted that if you're going to do something, this is a good start. And now…

You wouldn't be surprised if he'll avoid you most of the day so he wouldn't have to see his precious, dark and dreary store become a bit brighter. Slightly more inviting.

Just slightly.

Well… you've been working on every room. Even where the bodies are kept, or rather the 'guests', and even his master bedroom. Everything was getting cleaned, if you could reach it, and the parlor room is one of your last spots. You've been avoiding the room because of the customers, but now is the perfect time. No real funeral plans, and no appointments for the day. Sure, there are many walk ins, but you can handle that. "Okay. Here we go," you scoffed, grabbing a scarf and tying it around your face, over your mouth and nose, before grabbing a broom and flipping it around so it was brushing up at the ceiling.

God, you hate dust. And pollen… heck, anything that can make you sneeze. Sure, you hate cleaning, but if you don't then you won't be able to breathe.

So, you worked. No matter how many times you stopped to cough, how many times you had to walk away from the room to breathe fresh air… if you'd call black London fog breathable air. But you needed to do something productive, and you didn't stop until you heard the doorbell ring, and you stopped by putting your duster down and began to climb down the ladder you were propped up on. "Hello sir," you began, smiling your best smile as you tugged on the dirty scarf so you could be heard. "Welcome to the Undertaker's mortuary. How may I help you?"

"Ah… yes," he grinned, giving you a glance that caused you to glare slightly in response. "I wasn't expecting a lady like yourself in a gloomy place like a mortuary. Is the Undertaker here?"

"Somewhere. I'll find him. What's your name, if I may ask?" you decided to ask, but your question caused the man to smirk, which only made you give him an unsure, but stern look in return.

"I am Earl Phantomhive, and I am looking for precious information from the Undertaker, but you, milady," he grinned, suddenly grasping your dirty hand, but you couldn't help but glare at him as he kissed the top of your hand, "may call me Vincent."

"… Right. I'll be right back, sir," you stated, though instead of being irritated you were a tad shocked, even a bit curious, and you left the man waiting in the parlor room, making your way down the narrow hallway before taking a set of stairs to the basement level.

The dense smell of decay lingered in the air, but you were fairly used to the smell as you looked for the man, only to find a big black mass in a far off corner, giggling to himself as he worked on a fairly recent addition. "Sir," you began, trying to keep some sort of professionalism, but alerting the man to your presence as you continued, "an Earl Phantomhive is here to see you?"

"_Aaah~!_ Yes. I was wondering when the little earl would appear," he giggled excitedly, leaving the corpse without a second thought, and began to wash his dirty hands in a basin, which you figured you should probably bring up stairs to dump out, once he walked away, of course.

"… You're an informant to the Queen's Watchdog?" you decided to ask, causing the man to stop mid step to look over at you in shock, but you decided to say, "I know who the Phantomhives once were. Don't act so shocked."

"Were… _meaning~?_" he asked in a curious tone, but you shrugged your shoulders in reply.

"Can't stay a noble forever. Now, he's waiting. Should I get a pot of tea started?" you asked, causing the man to give you a slight smirk.

"Yes, if you don't mind Lara. Give him the good earl gray."

"Earl gray," you snorted at the idea of giving an 'earl' earl gray tea, but you decided not to utter your own funny thoughts on the matter and instead grabbed the basin of fairly dirty water, following the man calmly up the stairs, towards the back door, and you dumped out the water and refilled it at the pump before coming back inside, placing the water on a countertop, and began to make a hot pot of water for the tea.

You had to admit. The design of this building made you think that it was once a two story apartment space. There's a small kitchen on the ground floor, and one on the top floor, but the space on the top floor was a bit roomier. Probably, a lot of people were cramped into this one living space, and the upper floor was for those with more money to spend on rent. Perhaps.

Either way, it didn't exactly matter to you. You're just curious, is all, but you doubt you'll get an answer to that particular question, anytime soon.

After finding the stash of earl gray leaves, and remembering how to put the tea together, the way Undertaker showed you, you took off your dirty scarf, placing it beside the clean water basin, and set everything upon a tray as you made your way back into the parlor room, being careful and going slowly. You didn't want to spill, and while you may have quick reflexes, you can still make a lot of mistakes… and you aren't exactly the most graceful individual, if you're not paying attention.

"Ah! There's my little assistant," Undertaker spoke with a giggle, suddenly grabbing the tray from you and setting it down on the decently organized, lone desk.

"I could have handled it myself," you scoffed, but you decided not to get too mad over the man's kindness… or is he just being proper? Holding doors, helping you when something seems too heavy for you, things like that. It's still odd to accept that sort of help, but you're beginning to understand that's what this English society does… no matter how annoying it will get, at times.

But you could see the young Phantomhive smiling at you, his bright brown eyes twinkling in the dim lighting while he sat atop a coffin, as if it was normal. You couldn't help but give him a curious look, only for the Undertaker to suddenly stand beside you, grabbing you shoulder and forcing you to lean against his side. "My dear assistant, let me introduce you to the infamous Earl Vincent Phantomhive, personal Watchdog for the Queen. Earl, this is Lady Clara –"

"But you may call me Lara, Vincent," you continued, bluntly, moving slightly to get out of Undertaker's grasp before standing a bit taller, your gaze a bit calculating as you looked the man over from top to bottom. He was what you'd envision a proper Phantomhive gentleman to be, but then you turned to give the Undertaker a glare, "and I'm not a lady."

"Of course you are," Vincent stated with a smile of his own, and it was then you noticed he had a curious little beauty mark under his left eye, before turning back to look him straight in the eyes.

"… I'm not sure what Undertaker has already said about me," you decided to say, giving the man in question an annoyed glance, in which he grinned innocently in return, before you turned back to glare up at the earl, "but considering he's an informant of yours, you've heard enough, and if he did say something I wish he'd keep quiet about, I hope you do the same… earl," you finished, giving Undertaker one last irritated glance before continuing, "Now, if you excuse me, there's something I need to finish doing –"

"Wait," Undertaker responded before you could rush away, and you gave him a prominent pout, while he just grinned deviously in response, knowing you were caught and forced to stay in the parlor room. "My dear, I was thinking, _perhaps~_ you could tell the earl what he needs to know," he began, smirking at the curious look Vincent gave him, while you simply glared in response, knowing exactly where he was going with this. "To show the young earl you are a _reliable~ source of information, hmmm~?_"

"… Yeah. Fine. Whatever," you scoffed, giving the man a harsh look, "but what are we getting out of this? Money? Or is it some sort of laughter," you huffed, but Undertaker simply grinned in reply.

"Why don't _you~~_ put in the terms, and if you can answer the questions I won't argue with the results," Undertaker grinned, though you noticed the earl was patiently waiting, teacup in hand, as if he was watching some entertaining show that was just for him, and him alone.

How bothersome.

"I feel like this is a trap. Either that, or you're crazy. Probably crazy," you stated, but then you turned to the earl and gave the man a curious look. "What do you think, sir? But I doubt I can answer the questions you're asking."

"Don't doubt yourself so soon, young mortician," he smiled, but he chuckled as you rolled your eyes at his words and sighed to yourself, tired of this little game as Vincent turned his attention to you. "I won't waste anymore time, if you wish. There's been a string of murders lately, and the Queen wishes for the assailant to be… taken care of."

"Killed. I see," you decided to say, not bothering to beat around the bush since, well, while he is having a bit of fun here that doesn't mean you shouldn't keep the man from his 'important' earl duties. Whatever that may be. "… What do you need to know, specifically?"

"Your employer was sent five bodies to look at," Vincent continued with a smile, and you turned to give Undertaker a glaring look as he grinned innocently at your irritation. Yes, there it was. The reason why you wouldn't be able to answer the question. Because you doubt you'll seen these five bodies yourself. "Lord Undertaker has a way of seeing the fine details, so if you are his apprentice you'd be able to find what exactly killed the victims."

"Very vague, but I'll agree to give you information if you give me a moment to see these bodies you speak of. I haven't been given a chance to see for myself, and I'm not the type to make a promise I'm unable to keep," you decided to say, casting Undertaker a look as he gave you a wider smile, then usual, but it was probably out of amusement.

"I'll _show~_ you to our guests, if you don't mind, my dear," he giggled, but you turned back to Vincent.

"Is that fine? Do you mind waiting a few minutes?"

"Of course, but minutes? Surely you'll need more time –"

"No," you stated, very bluntly and to the point, but then you paused and continued with a thoughtful look on your face, "So, _my payment~_?" For the first time since you've arrived, you've begun to let your more mischievous side shine through. A sly smirk, a glint in your bluish, silver eyes, but the devious grin that seemed to appear on both Undertaker's and this earl's face wiped that smile off of your face completely, and instead you replaced it with an annoyed look.

Which disappointed Undertaker, apparently, but whatever. Like you care.

"What did you have in mind?" Vincent asked with a grin, which caused you to momentarily pause before you sighed, tugging at your sweater to get his attention.

"Considering I'm working to stay here, I don't exactly desire money, right now, and laughter won't cut it. You lot are already quite amusing," you decided to say, letting a slight hum leave your breath before you continued. "So, how about this? The Undertaker told me a while ago that a seamstress would come by to make some clothes for me. I don't need anything fancy, but this woman never showed up. It's been more then a week now, unless you didn't even make a call, or whatever you people do here," you stated, giving Undertaker a glare as he giggled to himself.

"_I did~~_. Maybe the poor dearie was _scared~ off_," he smirked, but you shook your head and turned back to the earl.

"So, at the very least have someone who's reliable show up, so I can stop wearing the dead's clothes. I'm starting to run out of creative ways to wear this stuff," you continued, motioning to your long black skirt, and noticing the man looked more intrigued then disgusted, which is good. You think. "At least they're being used, I guess, but no one is taking me seriously. So, here's the deal: provide me with a couple of outfits, they don't have to be expensive or anything, that'll fit a… lady or whatever, and I'll give you the information."

"Sounds reasonable," Vincent responded with a smirk, which made you slightly relieved. If you had to haggle down to only one outfit you weren't going to be pleased. You weren't exactly in the mood to play any elaborate games, right now. "I'll have someone come by tomorrow, around noontime. If not, the afternoon. Hopefully the woman won't be busy."

"Good," you agreed, now turning to Undertaker as if you were expecting something from him. When he simply gave you a blank stare, you scoffed and stated, "Well? I don't know which, ah, **guests** the earl is talking about. You can come back upstairs to chatter, but I can't finish this task if you don't give me a chance to," you decided to say, hoping your roundabout phrasing was enough to convince the man to give you a hand with this assignment, but he simply smirked in reply.

"_Of course~_. My lord, I'll be back in a moment."

"Take your time," the earl grinned, making himself a bit more comfortable on top of the coffin he was sitting upon, but you cannot help but feel a bit bad for wasting his time like this.

But if he's fine, then fine. You'll accept this and move on, and make sure you're quick to examine these corpses for yourself.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Honestly, I wasn't going to post this so soon, but when I said in the last chapter that I'd post another chapter today… I suppose I should do so. Since I promised you guys, and all that.**

**Finally, we see Vincent! 5 chapters in! **

**Wow… I thought he came a bit later, but this is just fine. I've enjoyed writing Vincent, if I'm going to be honest. A bit of a mischievous earl. That's how I see it, when I write Vincent. Yes, he's charming and looks like the face of aristocracy beauty, but of course our Clara is completely unphased by his charms.**

**Anyways, while I could review one more chapter, I'll just leave this at a cliffhanger. Don't worry. This particular… scene doesn't last for very long. It was a lot of fun to write, initially. **

**And you guys ENJOY the rest of your week! Sadly, I have work tomorrow, but maybe I'll post the next part of this tomorrow? Maybe later? But yeah. I'll leave that for tomorrow. It's already getting late, where I am, and I think this is a good place to stop the story, right now.**

**SEE YOU LATER!**


	6. The Dog's Informant 2

After Undertaker left you behind in the basement of the mortuary, and you set the basin of clean water upon a table, you swiftly made your way to the five corpses the man had pointed to, all sitting in a row in an examination room. You sighed, rolling up your sleeves as high as they'd go, wondering to yourself how that man could work with such long sleeves, without cleaning his hands all the time. Maybe it's because he's a reaper, but you'd assume that his sleeves would always be dirty with gunk.

The thought made you feel disgusted, but you decided to get to work. You couldn't have an earl waiting too long… you assume. Not like you care, but you'd really like to owe up on that payment you were promised.

However, as you began to examine each corpse, you noticed that they died in different ways. One, from lead poisoning. The other, arsenic. The lungs of one corpse was filled with water, meaning he had been drowned, and one was stabbed a multitude of times. The last corpse looked to have died of old age, but… the longer you looked, the more you realized that there was something similar:

The scummy scent of a demonic force.

Ah. That was it.

Each person died at the hands of a demon, but why? And were they the same demon?

Upon further inspection, you realized that the two violent deaths had one scent, while the three, much calmer, though still terrible deaths had another. The violet deaths were male… the calmer death female… Huh.

You examined every body a bit closer, just in case. You looked at their hearts, searching for a trace of a faint demonic mark. The eyes, tongue, and even the hands. Nothing.

So none of them had a contract, but they got in a demon's way…

You wonder if this earl even knows about demons, angels, and the like. You'd be pleasantly surprised if he does.

Without anything else to note, considering each victim was of a different age, different death, and may have died at different times, though within the past few days, you're guessing, you washed your hands in the clean basin water, wiping your hands as well as you can with a rag, and cleaning your hands again, at least attempting to get the blood off your hands, before you walked back up the stairs, dirty rag in hand, and you tossed it into a basket meant for dirty clothes covered in gross guts, and you calmly made your way back into the parlor room.

But you paused.

You noticed… a fairly older butler standing by the door, his gaze instantly catching your own the moment you walked into the room. You bet Undertaker knew you showed up, but didn't acknowledge you, but it was the earl who lifted his head from whatever conversation the two men had, to give you a gleeful, charming smile. "So, have you uncovered the truth?" Vincent asked in a curious tone, and you gave Undertaker a curious look of your own before leaning down and whispering into his ear, which startled him by how suddenly you did so, but he easily relaxed.

"_Does this boy know about the supernatural?"_ you asked, as quietly as you could, before stepping away and eying the man curiously, who gave you a snarky smirk in return.

"_Not telling~_" he giggled, putting a finger to his lips as you as you rolled your eyes.

"Fine. You're no help," you scoffed, but then turned your attention to the earl. "I'll ask you directly. Sir, do you believe in supernatural entities?" you began, your bluntness a tad off putting, but he answered with a smile of his own.

"_Why~?_"

"From what I observed, each victim died in different ways. Some more violent then others, but what was the same was the nature of their deaths: demonic," you told him, giving Undertaker a harsh glare before turning back to the earl and letting a tired sigh leave your breath. "I have a particular set of skills, you see, and while most humans would just see five different deaths, I could tell they were pushed along by two distinctive entities."

"Two?" you heard Undertaker asked, but you elaborated with a harsh glare in his direction.

"Yes. Two. What, you couldn't see it?" you scoffed, sounding as if he was stupid, but then continued with a tired sigh. "The two violent deaths, the drowning and the stabbing victims, were killed from a male demon, and the poisoning and old age deaths were from a female. None of them seemed contracted to said demon, and there is no faint trace or markings that can help me identify **who**, but I can tell you this: there are two threats to deal with, and probably a third or a fourth human to deal with, as well."

"Huh…" was all you heard the earl say in response, causing your eyes to glaze over in slight irritation. What? Did they not hear you? But before you could start cursing under your breath about how no one listens to you, he continued with a grin, "That was very useful information, Lady Clara."

"Ms. Lara to you. I don't need the word lady tacked on to everything," you huffed, but your snort was shortened as he grasped your hand and gave it a gentle kiss, and this time you couldn't stop the slight pink tint that appeared on your cheeks… no matter how irritated you were over the fact you were blushing.

"Thank you for the useful information, Ms. Lara," he corrected, giving you a smile before turning his attention to the Undertaker. "I'll have someone come by with my end of the deal tomorrow. I shall speak with you soon."

"As you wish, Earl Phantomhive," the Undertaker smiled, the two of you watching the two men leave the parlor room, and then you turned your attention back to the reaper.

"What? You didn't notice that the scents were different? I thought you were some _almighty powerful~ eternal entity~_. I must be mistaken," you grinned rather crudely, only to let out a curse as he suddenly grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. "Hey! –"

"Bah ahahahaha! You certainly are an interesting human! I was right to keep you around," he snickered, his mouth rather close to your ear, and you groaned as you tried to move away from his grasp, especially his head. But then you paused as he heard you whisper, _"but sometimes, keeping such interesting~ information to yourself is a good thing."_

"… Says you," you huffed, managing to shrug the man off of you as you stepped away and turned to face him. "It'd be best for a human to know he's up against **two** demons. I don't even know the extent of their powers, but I'm sure that male one will be a problem."

"_Aren't you worried~?_" he smirked, causing you to give him a curious look. "After all, as you say, it's a human up against two demons. _Do you think he'll survive~?_"

"If he can't handle two street demons, then he shouldn't call himself a Phantomhive," you scoffed in disgust, surprising the man as you reached for the dirty scarf you had tucked into the folds of your skirt, and you took it out of its hiding spot to wrap the cloth around your face. "Now, if you excuse me, there's still work to be done."

"Yes, yes," he slightly groaned, waving you off as you went back to climbing the ladder to reach the top of the bookshelf. You smirked. He really doesn't like the word 'work', does he? No wonder he's some retired reaper. You wonder why, though, but decided to keep it to yourself.

Instead, you went about your cleaning plans for the day, hoping you'll finish before it gets too dark to work productively, anymore.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You woke up relatively early this morning, which meant you need to do… something. Deciding it was too late to go back to sleep, and to early to start breakfast, you slipped on some decently warm, yet clean clothes, socks and a pair of shoes you weren't planning on keeping on your feet for very long, and lastly a long, warm coat. With your items, and a key back into the building just in case, you slipped your way into the decently sized hallway, giving Undertaker's room a quick glance before making your way, as quiet as you could, down the stairs, to the ground floor, and towards the back door. You put on your working shoes, for digging through the mud and grime, before gently opening the door and closing it behind you with a light 'click'.

You sighed, taking a few steps backward, making sure he hadn't woken up to see what you were doing, before you began to walk along the dirt and cobblestone walkways. You let out a deep, cleansing breath, sighing to yourself as you aimlessly wandered the graveyard, every so often glancing over at a tombstone or a gravesite before continuing onward.

You know you must look rather odd, but you needed some fresh air, and the morning chill and dew was enough to wake you right up. Normally, on a morning like today, when you cannot go to sleep and you don't plan on making breakfast, you'll do some training, but you bet training in the middle of the cemetery wouldn't be a good idea. So, you simply wandered until you started to feel a slight chill in your bones, before making your way up to the top of the tallest hill, with the lone tree, and calmly sat down against the trunk of the tree.

You watched, as the sun slowly began to rise on the horizon, first changing the nighttime sky of dark blue and violet to a slighter, brighter tone of blues and purples, eventually those colors changing into pinks and blues, swirling together as reds, oranges, and yellows began to build up in the sky. You let your body relax as you watched, probably looking like a propped up corpse from a distance that wasn't even breathing, but you simply gazed, mesmerized by the sunset…

Only to have your tranquility suddenly snapped as you heard a noise, your head jolting to see what was behind you. "_Aaaaih~_… didn't assume I'd see you here, my dear," you heard the Undertaker say, but you slowly turned your head to lean back comfortably against the trunk of the tree, only for his slight snickering to snap you out of your thoughts.

"… May I help you?" you decided to ask, giving him a weary look as he finally managed to stand at the top of the hill, his silhouette rather dark and menacing while you eyed him suspiciously.

He simply smiled in reply. "I noticed your presence was missing from the building. I wondered where you had gone, but the moment I stepped outside I noticed you were up here," he grinned, though you could tell he wasn't exactly happy.

And you sighed. "I needed some fresh air, and wanted to watch the sunrise," you decided to tell him, pointing to the brightening sky before looking back at him, "and I woke up early. Is that a problem?"

"_No problem~_" he smirked, but you watched as he began to lean against the tree trunk, his body off to the side of yours as he leaned and watched the horizon, as well. "… However, since we had been talking about recent murders by demons, I didn't want _my pretty little human~ assistant_ running around, on her own."

"_Aaaaah~_. You care," you looked up, giving him a mischievous smirk, but then you let your head look back outward to the horizon, and you let a tired sigh leave your breath. "I may be human, but I can take care of myself."

"So you say," he responded in a simple, yet strangely direct tone, and you glanced back up at him before growing quiet and continuing to look off into the distance. Towards the horizon.

You let a faint smile appear upon your face, one that was content and at relative peace, as you slowly watched the sun finally rising, peeking through the rolling hills before its radiance began to warm up the land. Eventually, when the sunlight did reach the spot you were sitting upon, and the side of the hill facing the sun, you began to stand to your feet, brushing some dirt off of your clothes, before giving Undertaker a content, yet curious look. "… Have you never watched a sunrise before?" you decided to ask, smirking as you waited for an answer, but he gave you his own smile before chuckling lightly to himself.

"Of course… but it's been a while."

"How long?" You asked in a curious tone, but he gave you a sly smirk, patting your head while you snarled, taking a step away to get his hands away from your head.

He laughed in response. "A few years, probably… Maybe ten years ago, perhaps," he told you, causing you to give him a curious look before smiling lightly.

"I think, no matter how long your lifespan is, taking some time to enjoy your surroundings and the life you've been given is a good thing," you decided to say, gesturing to the sunrise before you began to make your way down the hill, stopping when you noticed he wasn't following you. "Ah… Undertaker?"

"_Hmmm~?_" he asked, causing you to take a few steps back up the hill, before you held out your hand to his. He cast you a rather confused stare, hidden behind long bangs, but you simply smiled lightly.

"Come on back to the mortuary with me," you said, smiling as you waited for the man to approach you, giving you a curious look before he smiled in return, placing his long, uncovered bony hand on top of your own, and you gripped it tightly, tugging him along as you made your way back down the hill. "_So~_, what's the plan today? Do we have any appointments?"

"We do have that seamstress the earl is supposed to send," Undertaker told you, and you stopped for a brief second to look back at him.

"I completely forgot," you chuckled, before continuing towards the back door of the mortuary. When you reached the tool shed, you let go of the man's hand, but you could tell he wasn't exactly ecstatic about that as you reached for the door knob, turning it, and stepping back into the building. "How is that even going to work? I'm not fond over the idea of having to wear corsets," you groaned, easily slipping out of your boots since you didn't really tie them onto your feet to begin with, before turning to give Undertaker a curious look. "How is that even like?"

"_Not sure~_" he snickered, outright laughing at the irritated look on your face, but then he continued through a snickering giggle, "there are many ways to wear a corset, my dear."

"Oh?" you responded, unsure about what he meant as you both made your way through the hallways, up the stairs, and you made your way to the kitchen, slipping off your coat and throwing it over onto a chair as you passed it. "But let me guess, it's painful."

"Probably will be, considering you've never worn one, but women in this day and age find it fashionable."

"Fashionable my ass. What's fashion is your style. Not how constricting your outfits are," you scoffed, grabbing a pan and placing it onto the stove, before reaching for a box of nearby matches and turning the knob, tinkering with the knob before you could hear the gas hissing through, and you lit a match and placed it into the stove, watching the gas light up into flames before you put the pan on top of the burner, using some oil to grease up the bottom of the pan.

"And what sort of _styles~_ do you wear, my dear?" he grinned, suddenly handing you some eggs, which you accepted as you cracked them with ease, letting the eggs fall into the pan before you reached for a nearby wooden spatula, also adding some pepper to the eggs before they get further cooked.

"Well, I doubt what I say would be 'acceptable'," you scoffed, giving him air quotes with your fingers before you continued, "but my favorite color is purple. Next to blue and black. Violet is my absolute favorite, since it's a combination of purple and blue… I'll wear whatever someone gives me, but I prefer pants… or at least skirts. Sleeveless shirts or tee shirts with a fun design on the front… I doubt I can just wear shirts, but I enjoy violet," you decided to say, before turning your attention back to the man. "What about you? What is your favorite color?"

"_Ooh~_… I suppose I prefer pink," he smirked, waiting for your reaction as you blinked, staring at him as if he was crazy, before a light snort left your breath. "It's not funny, my dear –"

"It's not that. I'm just surprised! I assumed black because the place is so dreary… Good to know," you decided to say, but he continued with a slight huff.

"I enjoy my mortuary, child. It doesn't need to be colorful and flashy. This is a place for the dead –"

"Now you're sounding like a field officer," you responded bluntly, but you cast him a playful smirk at the glare you could feel behind your back. Yet, you continued, "places for the dead don't have to be scary and gloomy. A little bit of color never hurts anyone… I won't be painting the walls, if that's what you're afraid of, though I'm sure the walls need a new paint job," you stated, but continued with a slight hum leaving your breath as you began to flip the eggs upside down in the pan. "No. Maybe there's some interesting art we can put up, that'll be more inviting then a blank wall… or flowers. Fake? But I don't think this time period even has plastic flowers," you decided to say before turning to give him a smile. "It won't hurt. _I assure~ you_."

"If you say so," he sighed, grabbing a plate so you can place the eggs on top, and you easily did before grabbing pieces of bread, adding a tad more oil to the pan before placing them onto the pan, flipping them rather quickly.

"For the record, I'm sensitive to dust, dandruff, and especially pollen. That's why I wanted to clean up around here. I don't think I can stand living here if I was sneezing every other second," you stated, before putting the bread beside the eggs, and turning off the stove. "Okay! _Soo~_, am I good or what?" you smirked, but when he gave you an unsure glance you pouted, picking up the plate and grabbing another empty plate before making your way to the small dining table.

"I'm sure the eggs are delicious," Undertaker stated with a grin, sitting across the table from you as you both served yourselves, the man, of course, getting the extra egg, and you sighed contently at the tasty eggs.

Sure, they weren't special or anything, but they were 'all natural'. Perfect eggs, for a perfect breakfast.

Even if the toast you tried to make was rather hard, but then again the loaf of bread was bought a couple of days ago.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: HEY, HEY! I had some time, so I finally reviewed another chapter and posted it. Whoop! **

**Just a continuation of the last chapter… and a bit of 'romance'? Just a peaceful scene, if I'm going to be honest. And if you any of you guys are wondering, yes, that butler with Vincent is Tanaka. **

**Well, I don't know if I'll post another chapter within a few days or not, so I hope you guys ENJOY this story! And have a good weekend! I know some guys are out on spring break, so ENJOY your break!**

**When you're working, you don't get fun lengthy breaks. So enjoy it while it lasts.**


	7. Living in the Victorian Era 1

**A/N: HEY GUYS!**

**It's been a while, hasn't it? At one point I wanted to post another chapter, but I got busy. It happens. Today, I'll probably post more then one chapter, at least, just to get rid of some chapters saved up on my computer, but I may get busy this week, again. I've been feeling a bit sick. In fact, I was terribly sick on Sunday. Hopefully it was some 24hr bug or something short. I don't know, but since I'm not working today or doing anything really productive, I'll be posting more chapters to this story.**

**Also, for those of you who HAVE been reading this story and aren't newcomers, I changed my dates, a bit. So, in chapter 3 I changed the main date from 1880 to 1881. And 1879 to 1880. It's just a year jump forward. I didn't change the months or days, though I was thinking about doing that, but it'll pertain later to an aspect in the story further down the line. I also wanted to say, if I accidently have 1880 instead of 1881 in my chapters, up to about chapter 20, then it was a mistake and I missed it when I was reviewing the chapters. **

**Lastly, this upcoming chapters are kind of like tiny little fun scenes that I wanted to write about. It was a bit fun, but there is a bit of development.**

**But yeah. I have nothing against corsets. Just **_**Clara~**_** has a problem with corsets. Why? **_**Who knows~?**_** But my past experience with wearing a corset was at a renaissance festival, when I tried one on. I certainly wasn't ready for the lady to tighten the laces. ^.^ But honestly, if I could, I'd buy one. The thing is, corsets are SUPER expensive. I'd need a damn good reason to wear one, and these days I'd rather wear comfortable clothes then stylish clothes… Oh. And I have done some research about corsets, or at least tried to. Not for this story, exactly, but corsets have interested me since my high school days. **

**Okay. That's about it. BYE! I'll probably post another chapter later today, but don't expect it right away.**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Then… there's no way around this," you groaned deeply, earning you a light snicker from not only Undertaker, but the lady who was talking to you, as well.

"Corsets are the height of fashion for any respectable lady! –"

"And the devil's _hilarious~_ invention. Seriously, how can you stand wearing this?" you scoffed, holding up the horrible contraption in question as your growl became a bit more aggressively. "It's like being crushed in the ribs by two giant hands! I don't think I'll ever get the point to these… **things**," you growled, but your snarling stopped abruptly when you felt Undertaker's hand upon your head, only causing a lowly scoff to leave your breath.

"_Now, now~_. Why don't you give corsets a chance –"

"I did, once. Worst decision in my life!" you huffed, before you pointed to your side, "And besides, I still have stitches that'll become a nasty scar. Wouldn't a corset deter my recovery?" you decided to say, trying desperately to get out of wearing one of those… things, but he simply sighed and turned to the woman, who was staring at the two of you mildly amused by the situation.

"Perhaps nothing too tight," the Undertaker suggested, the two of you watching the woman write down his 'recommendation', before she turned to you and gave you a light smile.

"Don't worry so much, Ms. Clara. In fact, even working women can wear corsets. There are corsets designed so you can fit them on yourself, without the help of an extra pair of hands! But, considering the earl himself sent me, I'll provide you with both options," she decided to say, writing something down on her small notepad, but you quickly shook your head.

"No need to fuss over me. Besides, he only promised me **two** outfits. I don't –"

"But you're so beautiful!" she giggled, suddenly reaching for your loose strands of black hair, running her gloved fingers through the silky gleam. "And so young! It's not very day I get to have a new **young** customer. Besides, if you don't like it, you don't have to wear it," she smiled, but you could tell it would be rude to refuse this… kindness?

You didn't want to regret this, having to pay the earl back or something like that.

So you let out a reluctant, tired, but defeated sigh. "Make only two, but you can design more," you agreed, bluntly, before holding up a finger, "but also, if you could, I'd like to make a request."

"Oh?" she responded curiously, the Undertaker's eyes glancing over at you curiously as well, while you continued.

"If you could, I do have some favorite colors, and some colors I would hate to wear. I don't mind cool colors, and my favorite color is violet," you began, waiting as she wrote down your request before you continued. "Blacks and blues, as well. I don't mind green. But do **not** make anything orange. That's all I ask," you scoffed in disgust, before continuing, "but I don't mind red or even yellow. Just no orange. But, I believe the color purple is rarely used, so I understand if you can't make some purple dresses. That's fine," you decided to say, "but if you could, at least make one of the outfits easy to wear around a mortuary. I need clothes I can work in, and if I get… gunk on them I don't want to feel bad about ruining an expensive outfit… That's it," you finished, waiting for her to finish scribbling something down before she looked at you with a grin. "Just… have fun, but not too much. Nothing too wild and outrageous."

"Of course, ma'am," she giggled, before she began to shift through her bag, pulling out a long spooled tape measure. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to take your proportions. Where shall we go? –"

"My room is fine," you stated, quickly excusing yourself from the parlor room as you both made your way down the hallway and up the stairs. The moment you stepped into your bedroom you began to strip, not bothering to care if the woman had followed you inside or not.

"Oh! Ah… I wasn't expecting you to simply strip," she responded lightly, quickly closing the door behind herself as she set her bag down on a nearby table. "Most people are a bit nervous, for their first fitting."

"I've been measured and fitted into clothes before," you told her, though when wasn't exactly important. "Just, don't mind the scars," you continued, throwing your shirt onto your bed before letting your trousers fall, your feet stepping out of them as you waited patiently for the woman to be ready. "… You can try to hide my scars, if you'd like, but I don't mind them."

"Good to know," she responded, notepad and measuring tape in hand as she approached you, and you stood tall, letting her measure your height, before you lifted your arms as she moved one of your arms to your side. "… I see why you believe you don't need a corset, my dear, but even with your figure, when you get older a corset helps to… even everything out."

"I'm sure," you scoffed in disgust, earning you a light snicker in response.

"I apologize. Though, I suppose American women do not care about their appearances?" she stated, or perhaps asked, and while it was a jab at your old nationality and pride, you were unphased by her comment.

"Not exactly. Corsets are constraining. It makes it hard to breath, and when you're out working in the hot sun all day, a corset complicates matters. It tightens around your ribcage, compressing your lungs, and all of your inner organs in your chest, for that matter. Even your heart is affected," you attempted to explain, pausing for a moment before continuing, "I once say a corpse of a woman who had the corset on so tightly around her body, her organs had completely shifted and were compressed. It looked interesting, but I doubt that was a fun life. She died young, with a lot of complications at the end of her life. So, there's a reason why I dislike corsets," you finished, hoping that was enough to convince her that you weren't amused by the idea of wearing a corset.

You honestly don't see why it's a big deal. Heck, when Americans were conquering the wild west, you doubted most of the women wore a corset, at all. So, surely at this time there are people who don't. It shouldn't be this weird… right?

"… But it was a severe case. The woman was very fat. A glutton, probably, and kept tightening her corset strings the bigger she got."

"Very interesting," she decided to say, though you wondered if she said that because she was listening to you, or wasn't really paying attention to the conversation, anymore.

"Though, don't ask the Undertaker if he saw such a thing. I don't know if **he** has, but I did at my old home."

"Oh?" she asked in a curious tone, and you continued with a light smile, knowing you had to explain a bit more about your past.

"Yes. A reason why I accepted a job like this. I grew up… maybe ten years of my life in a funeral home," you told her, pausing for a moment before continuing solemnly. "I spent a lot of time with very interesting people, and honestly I've been deciding if I wanted to pursue a career with the dead or the living. A medical profession."

"Well, if you want to be a doctor, I'm sure you can find a way to do so," she responded, but you shrugged your shoulders in reply.

"I don't know. The dead don't talk. One reason why I don't mind mortuaries and funeral homes. Plus, I don't want to worry about accidently killing anyone… the dead are already dead. The living can die. And there was this one time…" you paused, though you couldn't stop the smirk growing on your face, and she gave you a curious look, as if expecting you to continue.

"… What?"

"It's a bit gross," you continued, but she shook her head and gave you a smile, beginning to spool her measuring tape back into a condensed ball.

"I won't mind. Besides, I'm done with the measuring," she told you, causing you to nod as you quickly put your clothes back on, feeling the deep chill in the air. "… So? What happened? You have to tell me; I'm curious," she continued, causing you to grin as you tightened the belt around your trousers, before reaching for the shirt you threw onto the bed.

"Well, it's two stories, actually," you began, deciding to continue as she gave you an excited look in return. "Firstly, I was talking to a friend of mine. Her father is a doctor, and he had been complaining about how the nurses sometimes write the wrong doses for patients, which is a very bad thing. Too little and a patient doesn't get the medication they need, but too much and you could kill them," you began, pausing to fix your attire before putting your coat and shoes back on your feet. "So, I told her, that's why I enjoy the dead. When you mess up, they don't die. They're already dead.

"So, I told her what I did, which landed me in a lot of trouble," you continued, making your way out of your bedroom door, the woman behind you as you continued your way through the mortuary. "I made the same mistake myself, on a corpse. Getting the measurements wrong. I wasn't paying attention, and when I was left alone to do the work myself, I accidently pumped too much cleaning fluids through the corpse," you smirked, remembering your mishap in grim detail, but now that you look back on it, it was a hilarious mistake. But, considering she's a seamstress and not a doctor, she probably wouldn't even understand the types of chemicals you were using… and that some of them aren't even used, in this day and age. "What was worse, I was preparing this guy for a viewing, so damaging the corpse wasn't a good idea."

"… So what happened?" she asked in a curious tone, after your dramatic pause as you turned your head, giving her a devious smirk, before stepping on the ground floor and continuing towards the parlor room.

"The man exploded," you told her, chuckling to yourself when she stopped, looking at you with wide eyes, and you turned to give her a light hearted grin. "Guts flew everywhere. Bile that hadn't been cleaned out was all over the place. My boss was furious."

"Oh God," she responded, but you continued with a grin plastered all over your face.

"Yeah. It was terrible! But, I can look back on that experience and remember to pay attention, when I'm working," you told her, before continuing to make your way towards the parlor room. "Anyways, we managed to salvage the damage. We had to sew the guy back up, and trust me that was hard, fill his body more then usual so he wouldn't look deflated, and we finished before the viewing, which was a relief," you chuckled, pausing before you made your way into the parlor room, waiting for the woman to make her way to you. "But, I spent two weeks cleaning up that room. Had to clean every single little inch. Ugh! Never again," you shuddered at the memory of being on your hands and knees, throwing up because the increase smell of chemicals that were whiffing in the air, making you sick. Plus, the smell of the man's innards… yeah. While it's funny to look back on, you're never going to make that same mistake, again… hopefully. "That's why the dead are better. If you make a mistake and get the measurements wrong, you don't accidently kill someone. And as far as his relatives were concerned, _he was fine~_. Intact," you chuckled, stepping into the parlor room.

Only to notice there was a fairly old couple, a man with his nose wrinkled up, while the woman looked like she was going to gag.

And as you looked at the Undertaker, you realized maybe you were a bit too loud.

"… You didn't hear **everything**, did you?"

"The part about a guest's body exploding, or the part about sewing his body back together?" Undertaker stated, though you weren't quite sure if he found your conversation hilarious or disgusting, as well.

"Look, it happened when I was, like, nine. I haven't done something like that again! And," you continued, turning to the old couple, "I apologize that you overheard me. I was only –"

"It was a funny story," the seamstress stated with a smile, "but you did warn me of the… graphic nature."

"Y-yeah," you chuckled, scratching the back of your head, before you sighed to yourself, composing yourself as you gave her a light smile, "but anyways, thank you for stopping by, Mrs. Hopkins."

"Of course!" she grinned, suddenly handing you a card as she snuck her way around the couple. "The clothes should be delivered in a few days."

"Thank you," you responded once more, glancing down at her business card before you slipped the card into your back pocket, before giving Undertaker an unsure, pleading look, hoping you didn't mess up this particular appointment.

But you were confused when he didn't start laughing. Instead, he gave the couple a smile, apologizing for you, again, before he went back to business.

Deciding it was best to leave the room, you went into the small kitchenette area to make some tea, doing your best to salvage the situation before you lose a customer. Sure, everyone dies, but if word gets out you exploded a corpse… well, that won't be good. And you don't want to ruin Undertaker's business.

But, before you could walk back into the parlor room, tray of tea in hand, you heard the front door close, only to hear a loud rambunctious laughter that caused the walls to shift and rumble around you. Shocked, you quickly made your way into the room, only to see Undertaker rolling around and holding his sides on the floor. "Oh!... Oh, dear gods!" he laughed outright, causing you to pause before you sighed, placing the tray on his desk while you scoffed in response.

"I was **nine**. I swear, it was a mistake and it won't happen again –"

"_Gah ahahahhaha~!_"

"I give up," you explained with a shrug, leaving the man on the floor as you made your way back down the hallway, deciding that you should probably get back to work.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"… UnderTAKER," you called out, pouting as you stared at the new package of outfits, and the accursed corsets lying neatly on your bed. You unwrapped the package you just received, but you weren't sure what to do with all of this.

"Yes, my dear?" you heard him calling from your closed door, and you scoffed as you made your way to the door, in your nightgown, opening the door before stepping away and walking over to the clothes.

"I know I must be stupid to ask, but… how am I supposed to wear this stuff?" you decided to ask, giving him an unsure, defeated look, and he gave you an amused smirk before chuckling and making his way to your bedside. "Not funny."

"It most certainly is. Do you not have dresses in your time?" he asked in a playful tone, and you scoffed as he began to examine the clothes you had been given, staring at them with intrigue as you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"Of course, but not like this! The only time you wear something this extravagant is if you're into steampuck, going to a renaissance festival, or you're into cosplay."

"… I did not understand what you just said, but my dear, this isn't too hard to understand," he smirked, though he naturally flinched when you slapped your hand against his arm, passing him as you grabbed the corset and flailed it in front of his face.

"Then teach me, damn it! I mean, the colors are even the same!" you groaned, but he shook his head, gently grabbing the corset from your hands and pushing your hands down, away from his face, before he calmly set the corset down and began to rearrange your clothes.

"Perhaps, but the fabrics are different. Mrs. Hopkins made you an everyday wear and a formal wear."

"Why would I want a formal wear?" you scoffed, but he eyed you curiously before he smirked in response.

"Because this is a gift from the earl, of course! She assumes you'll be going to a party… or at the very least, a social gathering."

"They aren't gifts. This is my payment," you pointed out with a scoff, picking up something you assumed was a coat and eyeing it curiously. "If I were to pay for this stuff myself, I wouldn't have let the woman go all out like this."

"Now, now. These clothes are pretty. Pay attention, child," he told you, noticing you were staring at a coat before glaring at him, putting it back on the pile as he continued. "This outfit, here, is the formal attire. This is a corset that you'll need an extra pair of hands to put on, and Lady Hopkins made a beautiful navy blue and violet dress for a special occasion," he grinned, but when you were staring at him, a tad confused, he held up the long skirt. "When the time comes, if you wish, I'll help you, but for now understand that you put this skirt on first, then the chest piece."

"And this?" you frowned as you pointed to two pairs of white fabrics, and he smirked, picking them up and stretching them at the ends.

"Why, these are _bloomers~_, of course… Undergarments," he stated, when you just stared at him confused, and it took you a moment to figure out what he meant.

"Underwear?"

"_Exactly~_" he snickered, giggling as you swiped the 'bloomers' from his hands, but you scoffed in response.

"What? No bra? And this is worse then boxer shorts," you huffed, throwing them out of the Undertaker's reach and further up on your bed, but you continued to pout at him. "Though, I guess that's why women wear corsets… but can't a guy see your nipples through the clothes?" you decided to say, holding up the other dress to your chest and frowning at the idea of people staring right at your chest, all the time.

"_Perhaps~_, but after two layers, I don't think it's very noticeable," he decided to say, but then he snickered as you hit his arm, again, and snarled before you put the dress back onto the bed.

"I see why corsets are full body, I guess, but the woman gave me two different corsets," you stated, and he picked one of them up, the one that wouldn't be covering your breasts.

"This is your everyday corset. I suppose she figured you didn't want to constrict your upper chest. Yes, your breasts will be hanging out, but you'll have more then one layer of clothing on. _Now~_, the formal –"

"One layer. Yeah, I'm starting to get it… but… you're going to have to help me get this corset on, aren't you?" you decided to say, tugging on the half corset as he smiled lightly.

"Sadly, yes."

"Sadly? Are you gay or something? _Not into women~?_" you smirked, eying him suggestively, until he stood right in front of your face, easily backing you into the edge of the bed.

"I assume it'll be _uncomfortable for__** you~**__, not me~~_" he grinned, though his face seemed rather dark, but you scoffed and shoved him away, and you were glad he wasn't planning on trapping you into the bed, and instead took a few, calm steps backward.

"Smartass," you huffed, but then you looked down at the outfit that had a bunch of layers, and frowned slightly. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked, anyways. The only problem I personally have is with my scars. Not modesty," you decided to say, picking up the outfit in question and looking it over.

While it had some navy blue sown into the black fabric, there was no violet or purple to be seen. It was mainly black, with grays woven throughout the overall design, and even some white, but that was just your white collared shirt. Overall, the everyday outfit didn't seem as fancy as the formal attire, but it still looked… expensive. In terms of all the cloth that must have been used into this single outfit.

"… Your scars are not terrible, my dear. In fact, they compliment you," he decided to say, but you just gave him a curious look.

"Says a guy with scars of his own, but while women swoon over your 'bad boy' style, people just see me as tainted and a freak," you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away from him with a dark gleam in your eyes. "Yes, scars show that I've lived. Survived, but the more people see, the more they grow weary of me. Wondering **how** I got them, and from **who**," you frowned, but then you felt a hand on your shoulder, tugging you so you were facing the Undertaker, again.

"You would be beautiful with or without my scars, Lady Clara," he stated, with a smile, and while your harsh glare diminished for a moment, it came right back as you glared back at him, playfully hitting him in the arm.

"Don't call me lady."

"You certainly don't **act** like one when you hit a gentleman, _such as myself~_" he snickered, his laughter growing as you hit him again, this time a bit more forcefully.

"You? A gentleman? Pah! No way!" you scoffed, but he simply grinned in reply. "Either way, I still need some help here. At least till I get this damn corset on," you pouted, causing the man to snicker in response.

"I'll take a step outside. You tell me when you're ready for me to come in. _And don't forget the bloomers~_" he grinned, cackling when you shoved him out of your door and slammed it behind you. You scoffed, shaking your head as you heard him laughing, but then you blushed, slightly.

Geeze… yeah, he's a guy, all right.

He's probably getting a kick out of the situation… How annoying.


	8. Living in the Victorian Era 2

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Sorry for not posting another chapter right away. I was engrossed in watching youtube vids and playing the sims 4, and now it's already 8pm… Whoops! **

**But, if I was sick with something, hopefully I'm getting better!**

**And BTW, Mrs. Hopkins isn't Nina Hopkins, but her mother… yeah, at first I was thinking maybe she is Nina, but then, with the timeline, I decided it was better to have the seamstress her mother. It just works a bit better, age wise.**

**Lastly, this chapter is a tad short… now that I read it over. I wanted to jump into the next chapter… and maybe I'll post the chapter 9? Maybe not? Tonight? We'll see.**

**I think that's about it… so, I hope you guys ENJOY, and if you have any COMMENTS don't be afraid to review! I'll try my best to respond to your messages, and I'm curious to know if anyone is enjoying this story or not. But YEAH! That's about it! So have a good rest of your week, and have a good night!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You sighed as you stared at your side, now noticing that the wound has relatively healed. You still needed to keep a tight bandage around your side, just in case, but you could tell you've healed.

Which means it's about time you find out if anyone traveled to the past with you… or if you're the only one.

It didn't help that Undertaker didn't actually tell you if there are others like you, appearing out of nowhere, in the reaper realm. From the way he avoids talking about the place, you can only assume he left… forcefully. Maybe he is a rogue.

But, whatever. It's not like you care about **that**.

What you care about are the kids. Rosie. Your friends and associates. Did they make it out? Were they stuck there, destined to die brutal deaths, while you got the easy way out?

It's been about a month. The date was April, April 3rd, and…

Easter was fourteen days away. You couldn't believe you've been missing out on Lent, and now for Easter to be right around the corner…

You groaned to yourself.

You're going to get yelled at by the kiddos, for sure. You doubt any adult actually brought them to the human realm for any service, and if they've realized…

Well… oh well. You just have to decide when and where you'll start looking for them.

For now, you had a day to start.

You threw off your clothes, put on your bloomers, and sucked in your gut as you wrapped the corset around your body, snapping the fronts into place, before letting out a breath of air. Yeah… you still hate this, but at least Undertaker didn't tighten the lacing so much that you couldn't even breathe!

But, you decided as you put your skirt, or rather the 'bottom half of your dress' around your waist, you're going to have to buy another one of these 'everyday' outfits. Maybe two, just in case. They were perfect, for a mortuary, and you're going to need more clothes. Not a whole bunch… but a bit more to get by.

But the entire thing was a bit of a workout. Taking up a good ten minutes extra compared to just throwing on whatever shirt you could find, a pair of pants, and shoes. This, well… you needed to think things over, snap and button things into place… it's a mess. But, at the end of it all, you didn't look half bad.

You wore a long black skirt, with a gray, warmer fabric underneath, that looked nice, and felt nice as well. It was strangely comfortable, and you could easily help Undertaker around the mortuary in this attire… though digging in plots… you're going to need pants, still. You'll end up with dirt and mud up your skirt and past your knees, dirtying everything in the process, but when it comes to cleaning and working, you even had a little apron you could wrap around your waist, and a full body apron for the basement.

But your upper 'shirt' thing complimented your skirt… even if it's a bit… odd to wear, still. The corset is what's uncomfortable, but it does help shape your figure to fit into the tight fitting parts of the fabric. It makes your waistline look a couple of inches smaller, but smooth. Mainly smooth. A strangely perfect hourglass figure…

You're not sure how you feel about that, but hey. It works.

It just accentuates your figure a bit more, you suppose.

Your upper clothing consisted of a white collared undershirt, which you could buy more of if you wanted, and an outer long sleeved black blouse/vestment, which had interesting blue embroidery stitched around to make it look a bit more fancy. It must have taken time, so… you wonder how Mrs. Hopkins got this done in only a few days.

But it was kept together by heavy duty buttons on the front, and now that you think about it, buying a bunch of tops to compliment the skirt would probably be easier. That's for sure.

But you were a bit disappointed that you weren't given some gray sash to wear, like the Undertaker, but an apron that covers part of your skirt, around your waist, will have to do. You combed your hair, deciding to be a bit more stylish, today, by braiding your long locks of dangling hair, and eventually braiding all of your hair until you twisted it around, pinning your hair up with a thick hair tie, black clips to match your hair, and lastly a long black ribbon, which your tied around your bun, stylishly, and you let the ends dangle behind your back, but not too far. You didn't want your head getting caught in anything.

Lastly, you put on some long black delicate looking gloves. You tend to take them off once you head into the back of the building, but hiding a woman's hands is fashionable… apparently. Something to do with 'delicate skin'… but whatever. They work, you suppose.

They kind of remind you of the gloves a reaper wears, but they are a bit more reliable. You're more afraid of accidently ripping these, then those reaper gloves.

So, after putting some things into your skirt pockets, which you absolutely love since you never realized even skirts can have pockets, you made your way out of your bedroom, downstairs, where you figured Undertaker would be. "Hello," you spoke as you stepped into the parlor room, watching as he flipped the sign to say 'open' from the outside, before he turned to you and grinned widely.

"Good morning! You are certainly in a good mood," he grinned, and you chuckled as you leaned against his paper filled desk.

You should really organize that… again.

"Coffee tends to wake me up," you exclaimed, and as he grinned in response while you continued, "so… there's something I wanted to tell you."

"Yes?" he questioned you while you propped yourself up onto a nearby casket, letting your stylish, slightly heeled, Victorian black street boots hung off of the side, swinging as you continued.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for everything," you began, noticing he seemed to pause, but you sighed and smiled towards him, "and I don't want to seem ungrateful, but… I still want to make sure I'm the only one here, you know? If I was thrown back into the past, maybe someone else was. Plus, there's still the problem about the apocalyptic future. If I could, maybe I could stop it, or at the very least prevent a worse outcome," you told him, but then you paused, noticing he didn't seem to be replying or commenting to your words, and you sighed again. "I-I'm sorry if you're mad, but this is something I need to do."

"I see… but, are you leaving?" he asked, and you gave him a slight unsure look, before you shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe. Unless you want me to."

"Of course I don't want you to leave, but –"

"Firstly, if the kids are around I need to make sure they're being taken care of," you stated, "and secondly, if there's something I can do, then maybe I should do it. Other then that, I'm a living, breathing human. Living amongst humans is something I **should** be doing. Not… living my existence with a bunch of grim reapers. No offence, but I didn't commit suicide and receive an eternal punishment. So, ah," you paused, unsure if you should say it, but you decided, hey, why not. What can you lose, at this point? "If you don't mind… I was hoping to stay as your assistant. Unless you'd rather I leave for good."

"I've enjoyed your company, my dear," he smirked, suddenly sitting down next to you and sighing to himself, "and you've brightened my life up, immensely."

"So you reapers say," you responded back with a smirk, and he gave you a curious look in return, but you just shrugged your shoulders at him. "When I say 'living and dead' I mean it. You reapers are dead, and tend to have one trek minds. Using knowledge and reason over any sort of emotions. Well, humans **are** alive, and there's a lot more swimming around in our minds then a reaper. I've just figured… You're like… ghosts that just kind of… linger, but still have to work, so you're grumpy all the time. Plus, it's hard to get any interesting emotions out of you, unless I try very hard to cause a reaction," you scoffed, leaning back on your hands as you pouted to yourself.

"… That's another reason why I enjoy your company," he continued, and you cast him a curious look as he continued with a content smile. "Humans are _very~ interesting_. Each one is unique, in their own little ways. Reapers tend to be boring, only caring about their rules and not taking a joke," he scoffed, but you nudged him in the arm, getting his attention.

"You miss my jokes too. Okay, maybe it's mostly sarcasm, but sometimes I'm joking around," you huffed, but then you felt a poke against your head, and you pouted at him as he grinned deviously at you.

"_I understand~_. It doesn't mean it's funny."

"Ah. You must like slapstick humor," you decided to say, but when he didn't respond you continued, "you know? Like, someone running into traffic to catch a carriage, only to be run over by that exact carriage. Or someone tripping and falling. Stuff like that. Physical comedy," you elaborated, pausing for a moment before giving him a smirk. "And of course, what **you** find funny is probably morbid, in nature."

"True," he snickered, pausing for a moment before sighing to himself. "I'm that readable, huh?"

"Perhaps, but then again I spent a lot of years trying to make a strict reaper laugh. It's **very** hard," you scoffed, causing him to eye you curiously, but you continued with a huff. "The easiest ways to make you beings laugh is anything ghastly and morbid. **What** makes you laugh is the hard part," you stated, but he simply smirked in reply.

"_Interesting~_. Is that what you do? Try to make us laugh?" he snickered, and you shrugged your shoulders in reply.

"You reapers spend all your time being serious and stuck up. I get it. Reaping the souls of the dying is exhausting, but you have all this extra life and you're not having **any** fun. So… I try to get your guys to laugh. I figured it's better then being moppy all the time."

"_I love~ the way you think_," he smirked, and as you gave him a curious look he continued with a grin. "I've spent ages attempting to bring some sort of humor to my fellow reapers. Doesn't mean it works."

"Yeah… though then again, when you give up on life then living much longer is a cruel joke," you decided to say, and he nodded his head in agreement.

"Very true –" he began, but you both paused and looked towards the door as the bell rung, indicating someone was walking into the shop. You watched as the Undertaker stood to his feet, giving the group of about three a wide, yet creepy smile, but you watched from your perch, deep in thought as he took care of the new clients.

Your mind just keeps floating back to the others. If you don't figure out your questions, how are you going to continue to live like this? Now that you're healed, at least mobile and not feeling too much pain, maybe it's time to find them…

But you bet they'd laugh when they see you in this outfit. Not that you dislike it, but you obviously look like a Victorian, working class woman. Not some gal that wears the same pair of pants every day and changes her top whenever she thinks it's starting to smell. Or actually attempts to make an effort, and puts on some makeup or does her hair.

Yeah, that's not what you look like at all…

Or some grim reaper field officer, wearing a feminine business suit, or even just a reaper in general. This outfit isn't that. A dress doesn't work…

But hey. This is the most fun you've had in ages. It's been a while since you got to work with the dead and the dying; a while since you got to enjoy the company of other humans. You didn't realize how much you had embraced your deathling half… Not that it's a problem, but you had become cold. Calculating. Even cruel, at times. You were cut through just because you let it happen. Not because you couldn't prevent it. You let your body deteriorate… even though you shouldn't have been self-sacrificing yourself, like that. It isn't healthy.

Yet, the end of days and the chaos that followed. The thought of losing everything… losing **everything**. You're trying to become that girl you used to be, but… you're not even sure if Clara is still there. If you still even care, about yourself…

But you need to find the others. That's your goal. That's your next step. At the very least, you can get some answers.

As you glanced at the Undertaker's backside, a calm and calculating look on your face, you figured he wouldn't let you go, willingly. He's probably lonely, being the only reaper living amongst humans like this, having no one who truly understands him. That's why he's being a tad clingy. You get that. You've seen it, before. Still… you need to do this, for yourself. No matter how hard the truth will hurt, this is mandatory.

Tonight.

Tonight, you'll make your way into the reaper realm… and hopefully, you'll find some answers. Not more questions that need answering.


	9. The Land of the Reapers 1

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Sorry that I didn't post another chapter, when I said I would. I wanted to finish writing a rather… emotionally triggering scene, and I didn't want to mess it up too badly. Not a death or anything, but I spent a lot of energy trying to finish that particular set of chapters.**

**But hey! Now, I'm going to try to post a few chapters. We'll see how it goes. **

**I'm reviewing this before I go to work, today. Hopefully I finish, but if not then I'll be looking over a few more chapters and posting them. At least another chapter… but I want to get rid of some of these chapters and get them posted, for you guys. It's just easier for my sanity if my saved docs don't look too clustered and full.**

**Anyways, now we get to see a side to Clara I barely get to write about. Even further into this story. This is just a setup to the 'reaper' stuff. I did my best explaining everything, but this is where I place most of the 'future' stuff down on the table, for you guys to understand. I was being a bit aloof about certain parts, so now, hopefully, things will be easier to understand. Sadly, I won't exactly have time to develop these reaper OCs, but hopefully in the future I can? In later chapters, I'm hoping.**

**So, if there's a particular reaper child you like, don't be afraid to make a COMMENT for their return! Cause they may or may not pop back up, later.**

**Alright. I'll let you guys get back into reading my story. ENJOY!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You let in a deep breath… then sighed, your hands reaching for your long black leather jacket as you tugged at the ends, letting the belt jangle against your hips as you stared off into the distance.

Nighttime had fallen, and while everyone is asleep… a creature like yourself roams about in the darkness, reawakened under the cover of darkness.

A Phantom.

You blinked, closing your eyelids for a moment as you ran your hands through your long locks of hair, pushing your flowing hair to the side as the breeze picked up, and let your hair flutter behind you. Your eyes… were now a faint green glow. The glow of a grim reaper, but not your own glow. No, your aura is a bit different, but if you were to sneak into the reaper realm undetected, this was necessary.

Once again, you closed your eyes, concentrating.

Standing in the middle of a cemetery like this, between life and death, always makes you feel so… alive. Awakened. Like, something that had been tossed aside, hidden away, was jolted into absolute alertness. You breathed, feeling your air turning from hot to cold in a split second, the sound of a lone owl hooting upon a treetop, and the noise of the human world behind you…

Behind you…

Snapping open your eyes, you began to run, a sudden jolt of energy surging through you as you took off in a mad dash, towards the woods.

Towards the unknown.

No longer was there a fence, cutting the graveyard off from the traffic and chaos of London city, but instead there was trees and trees, as far as the eyes can see. The moon illuminated your path, the wildlife peeking through the darkness to peek at the strangeness that was passing through.

You were quick. Swift.

But excited.

You haven't traveled this way to the land of the dead in a very long time. Usually, you're just picked up and brought there, or you develop a teleportation technique after spending a lot of time with the other reapers, but now…

That part of yourself was still lost. Forgotten. Tired.

It was time to wake up.

"I'm waking up," you spoke aloud, jumping over a large bush and letting your shoes slide through the mud, but you kept running, kept moving.

A smile crept upon your face, and a light hearted laughter soon followed. Creatures, young and old, moved to look, before disappearing into the nothingness, eyes still glancing as you ran. You felt yourself reliving a past long forgotten. An ancient tale, only to be revived by the written word. This was exhilarating…

But before you knew it, it was over.

You crossed to the other side.

Like any other land, any other realm, the land of the dead, or the grim reaper realm, or whatever the place wants to be called, is like a limbo. A purgatory. The light shines brighter and for a lot longer, the days feel endless, but the nighttime creeps slowly. Calmly. Overtaking you in a sweet, gentle embrace. Brief, but effective.

Even you're not quite sure how it works.

Sometimes, days or weeks have gone by in the human world, while only a day or two passed in the reaper realm. Other times, it's the exact opposite.

But you need your questions answered.

You need to see if anyone else was here. If they are hiding… or in plain sight, just waiting to spot you from the darkness. From the shadows.

But as you wandered, much like a ghostly phantom repeating its death over and over again, you felt something was amiss in the air.

A demonic presence.

Your eyes narrowed, but you didn't make any sort of comment or movement towards it, instead continuing to casually move about the realm, without being spotted. It was hilarious, if you think about it. A reaper finely tuned with Death itself would be able to spot you, for sure, but if they're not…

You could easily pass through them, as if you were a reaper amongst humans. All they could feel is a chilling shiver, but that was it. Still, it didn't matter. You were looking, searching for at least **one** to notice you. One to acknowledge you. One to, to…

"Ms. Lara?" you heard a voice, a quiet, meek voice, but a voice nonetheless. The voice was so familiar that you couldn't help but turn and look around, eyes wide as you searched for the source. What you found was a little dirty blonde haired girl, holding a deteriorated rag doll in her hands, her bright shinigami eyes wide and in shock, but it wasn't her appearance that made you smile.

Is was the fact that she was so familiar. "Gracie," you responded, slowly kneeling down, and you lightly chuckled as she ran straight into your chest, your arms wrapping around her dirty clothes tightly as she buried her head into your chest.

"Lara!" she cried out, sobbing against your clothes, but no matter how wet and dirty your clothes were becoming, you didn't care. You held her, cooing as she sobbed, and waited patiently for the little death to gather herself, before meekly stepping away from you and wiping the tears from her face. "You're, y-you're!... Alive?"

"As alive as I can ever be," you smirked, gently picking her up into your arms as you stood to your feet, and you sighed to yourself as you began to continue to walk down the street, as if the encounter never happened. "Healing, actually. What happened?"

"I-it's!... I don't even know," she told you, but she tightly gripped her arms around your neck as she continued, "but the others can tell you. They're at the orphanage!"

"… An orphanage," you stated, bluntly, and she frowned at the dark look on your face before tugging on your hair, getting your attention again.

"T-the older ones do the talking. I… don't like it here," she told you, but you smiled meekly, patting the top of her head as she pointed in a different direction. "There. Go there."

"Yes ma'am," you chuckled to yourself, letting the little girl lead you to where you wanted to go. But… you weren't impressed by **what** you saw.

The same plot of land, off on the outskirts of the fairly large reaper city, though the building was different.

A lot more deteriorated and older… then when you first saw this 'orphanage'.

Unless you were a reaper child born into some elite, prospering family, most children end up here for one reason or another. Usually, the parent dies and they are given, at birth, to the orphanage. Other times, they are abandoned at the steps, to be forgotten about and cast aside like trash. The first time you saw this place… you hated it. With very fiber of your being. The way the children were being treated, it just reminds you of…

It's ten times worse then anything you would have had to endure, in your day and age. When your mother passed away.

But these days, you're a bit desensitized. Sure, you're still disgusted, but at least now you can look at the children as if they are children, fighting to live and survive like anyone else.

"… I see why you hate it here. Everything is falling apart," you told the girl, but mainly you were just talking aloud to yourself, and you gently set her on the ground, letting her run off towards the large two story building, that didn't look like it'll last very long. Slowly, you made your way past the iron gates, pausing in front of the stone steps as you patiently waited for what was to come.

First yelling…

Then shouting.

Then an army of little reaper children came running out, tackling you to the ground as your annoyance turned into relief, and you chuckled lightly as they tried to hug you, or grab you, or just make sure you're actually there, alive. That you're not some walking ghost. A blast from the past.

Or rather, a blast from the future, but whatever.

"Ms. Lara!"

"CLARA!"

"You stupid human," you could hear from the voices surrounding you, and you managed to pat a few heads before trying to sit up on your spot on the ground.

"Okay, okay… don't be so rough. I'm still in pain over here," you chuckled nervously, but you ended up outright laughing as every single one of them back off, their hands instantly leaving your body, except for a particular little one, clinging tightly to your clothes. "_Aww~_, even little Uriel?" you grinned at the little brown haired, lightly tanned skin reaper toddler, and he looked up at you, bright green eyes pleading, and you scooped him up into your arms and let him cling to your clothes. "Come now. Don't be so sad. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Y-yes, but we thought you had died," one of the girls stated, followed by a boy letting out an annoyed huff.

"You weren't breathing. What do you think we were supposed to do? Huh? You were… bleeding so much w-we just…"

"… David, you remember what I told you?" you asked, calmly making your way over to him and patting his scruffy brunette hair, causing the boy to look up at you as you smiled down at him lightly. "Don't stop moving and surviving, even if that means leaving someone behind. I was dead weight. If something was attacking, keeping my lifeless corpse around wouldn't have helped anyone.

"You did good, okay?" you told him, smiling and ruffling up his hair before turning to the other children, "But what exactly happened? Does anyone know?"

"W-well –"

"Clara?!" you heard a voice from the steps of the orphanage, a few children you have never seen before peeking from the two large double doors, unsure if they should approach this scene or just remain spectators, but you managed to shift the child in your arms as the young woman ran up to you, grabbing you in a tight, bone crushing hug. "You died!"

"It's good to see you too, Rosie," you smiled meekly, hugging her with your free hand, before gently setting the toddler back onto the ground, before you grabbed her into a much tighter hug. "… I'm… sorry," you mumbled, letting your face bury itself into her long reddish locks, but she let out a shaky cry, and you could feel a couple quick pecks on the side of your head before you both let go and you smiled to her sweetly. "I'm sorry for abandoning you."

"N-no! I need to apologize. We left you to die. I-I don't even know how you… survived," she decided to say, looking defeated, but you wiped a few stray tears, tilting her head up so she could look into your brightened, caring smile.

"I'm happy that you guys survived. Nothing I have done would have meant anything if you hadn't," you told her, gesturing to the children before giving her a brighter grin, the green shinigami gaze in your eyes disappearing for your bright bluish/silver gleam instead. "I was so, so worried I ended up killing you all. I-I… I don't even know what happened. I lost my control," you told her, the grin on your face disappearing into a thin line, but she patted the side of your face, getting your attention as she looked at you with a content, heart warming gaze.

"… I'm just happy **you** survived, Clara… We should talk inside," she told you, letting you go, but still grabbing one of your hands as she gestured towards the old orphanage building.

You could only sigh in contempt. "Is it just me or is this place worse than the future?"

"It is worse. Sad to admit it, but it's true," Rosie snorted, picking up Uriel into her arms, but the toddler reached for you, and you happily took him from her arms, and she smiled meekly in response. "… Come on. Let's not linger outside for too long. Children."

"But Ms. Rosie –"

"Inside, now," you responded, bluntly, eying a few of the older children in expectation, before giving a light smile to Rosie and letting her guide you into the large, deteriorating building.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"So… it really was time travel? You sure?" you asked in a confused tone of voice, accepting the mug filled with hot tea, eying Rosie as she gave you a meek smirk, before slowly sinking into the couch chair across from your own, letting the mug in her own hands settle upon her lap.

"There's no denying what happened. The reason is… why. Or how. **What** did this to us?... It's been almost two months, now. It's hard to accept that," she chuckled lightly to herself, though the weak smile on her face told you that she wasn't exactly happy about realizing that. "… No matter what Michael and Johnny have tried, everything has stayed the same. And eventually… we've just accepted our fates."

"You can't give up," you scoffed in annoyance, setting your tea off to the side, on a nearby nightstand table that currently held a half broken lamp, before continuing. "Think of it this way, if we were thrown back in time, perhaps it's to prevent the end of days from happening? Or at the very least, to change fate. Or create it. Either way, this can't be for nothing."

"… Teresa is pissed. She hasn't even been able to be part of the Dispatch. Her job has become absolutely nothing… I believe she found some work in a bakery? But trust me, we've tried. The Dispatch just isn't taking women, at all."

"Disgusting. If anything, Teresa can beat up any one of those pricks," you scoffed in disgust, but she smiled meekly in response.

"Not… everyone came. Just a few. Michael, Steven, and Johnny. Teresa, Flora, and myself. And… Edmond."

"Even him?... He was miles away, wasn't he?"

"T-the time travel wasn't very specific. Even most of the reaper orphans were thrown back in time… but only the orphans," she told you with a sad look in her eyes, and all you could do is let out a tired sigh in response. "… Michael and myself talked about it. We're not really sure about the consequences… but no one is really listening to us. Yes, they accept that we time traveled, but they aren't doing anything to fix this. Not even the council."

"Of course," you scoffed in disgust, causing her to flinch slightly, but as you leaned over to sip on your tea some more, you heard her continue in a meek tone of voice.

"We all just kind of… gave up. I-I know you're mad –"

"Furious, yes, but not at you. At how stupid your council can be. Or perhaps it's stubbornness. And pride," you huffed, sipping on the hot tea in your cup, before setting the drink down and giving her a curious look. "Then… what? Are we giving up? Not to be a bitch, but I spent how many years with you reapers? And spent how much energy trying to stop the apocalypse? And now here you are, not doing a damn thing?"

"L-lara –"

"What?" you snapped, letting out a snort, but as you noticed she was starting to tear up, you sighed and brushed some of your bangs away from your face. "… Sorry."

"Y-you're right… just… I-it's hard," she sniffled, wiping a quick tear before continuing, "but there's only so much I can do. I-I decided… No one even knows I'm a Blodthorne," she told you meekly, causing you to glance over at her as she continued. "I… I knew that if I didn't, at the very least, keep the children safe… you'd be so mad at us. Your ghost would haunt us," she chuckled nervously, but her smile grew just a tad as you chuckled at her words.

"Damn straight I would."

"Exactly. You continuously told us that the children are the future. No matter what. We need to keep them safe… If I'm going to be seen as trash, I might as well do what I can," she told you, but you shook your head and sighed to yourself, wishing to yourself that you could change her attitude. But considering everything, the state you found her in when you first met… at least she's taking some initiative, now. "But what happened to you? W-we left you for dead, but… not even a reaper could survive so many wounds."

"A reaper found me," you began, giving the woman a light smile as you sipped on your tea, cradling the mug in your hands as you continued. "Lives as a funeral director. Probably thought I was dead, but when I woke up in one of his coffins… he took me in," you smiled meekly, sipping on your tea for another moment, collecting your thoughts. "… I'm still not even sure if he's really retired or had gone rogue, but he was willing to put up with me. So, I kind of owe him."

"What do you do for him?" she frowned, but you smirked at her unsure tone as you grinned in reply.

"I'm his assistant, though I mainly work in the mortuary. Attending to clients that show up, dealing with the paperwork. He really hates paperwork," you scoffed in disgust, "and it's not like I like it either. I just know how to do it."

"Maybe he **did** go rogue," she giggled to herself, and you grinned in response, but you noticed her chuckling was short lived as she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "… We're afraid the demons we were fighting were sent into the past, with us. That's Michael's main priority, right now. Hunting them down, and getting rid of them."

"Well, if you haven't done so yet, all of hell probably knows about doomsday. The real question is, how to deal with the situation?"

"… Clara," she spoke, her tone of voice and her use of your full name was enough to make you gave her a calm, but contemplating glance, "you… don't need to help."

"Rosie –"

"I'm serious. W-we took your life away. Your good years as a human. It was ripped away because us reapers were too selfish and couldn't handle our own problems. I know you're going to hate me when I say this, but you should live your days out as a human. Not get involved in our mess," she told you, but her voice cracked as she noticed that your face hadn't changed.

Except for your eyes. They were narrowed and glowing, darkly, but then you blinked and glanced away, staring off at the decaying walls as you thought her words over.

"… If you think it's best, I suppose."

"L-lara? –"

"I still feel bitter, but… I know my brother would hate to see me get sucked into your reapers' messes. Again. Besides, I enjoy that mortuary. It's not quite like when I lived in Japan, but I am enjoying the day by day entertainment. There's always dead bodies and crimes to solve. It's kind of fun. I haven't found it boring, yet," you told her, shrugging your shoulders before you turned your attention back to her, staring at her with a serious gaze, "but, if something does happen, do not hesitate to come and get me. As far as I'm concerned, you guys are practically my family. You're my friends, and I made a promise to you guys… If there's a way to prevent the apocalypse, or at the very least, slow it down… I want to help."

"… I-I'll tell Michael," she responded, before giving you a meek smile in return, "but… I know that time is different here then it is in the human world. Maybe it's about time you head back?"

"Y-yeah. Thanks for thinking about that –"

"And now that I know you're alive, I can make you some more medicine!" she grinned, causing you to raise an eyebrow as she jumped to her feet and pressed her hands together. "I'll give you your extra inhaler. Have you been having any problems, lately?"

"The gross black smog created by the factories in London don't help, but I haven't had an asthmatic reaction… yet," you told her, and you gave her a curious look as she began to leave the room. "But Rosie, you shouldn't give me the inhaler. That isn't something people use in this day and age, and –"

"Nonsense! I don't want you bedridden for weeks, just because you're prideful or you're afraid of the consequences. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be right back," she told you, simply, leaving the room and causing you to let out an irritable, but tired sigh.

Well, at least you know the truth.

Everyone is alive!... Well, a few, a small few… but it's better than being alone.

But if Michael cannot convince these reapers to change… maybe… you need to do something about this. Unlike these reapers, you will not live for centuries. For generations. Change takes time, but you cannot afford to wait.

But, you suppose, you'll give them the benefit of the doubt…

For now.


	10. The Land of the Reapers 2

**A/N: HELLO GUYS! I would have reviewed and posted this chapter sooner, but during work I had this pain splitting headache, which, I guess, means I haven't gotten over… whatever it is I'm sick with.**

**Great.**

**I'm not sure if it's because of the seasons changing… or something else. I think it's something else, but it's driving me crazy! Well, it's about time, if I'm going to be honest. Everyone at my work has gotten sick with something. I'm just surprised it took me so long, but it sucks. I wasn't going to post this next chapter, but… meh. I'm feeling a bit better. So I'll at least do that. I don't know if I'll post another chapter after this, or just wait until the pain goes away. We'll see.**

_**And~**_**… here's a few more reaper OCs. Once again, if there's some specific ones you want to see again, don't be afraid to ask! Cause I probably won't reintroduce all of them… most of them, maybe, but not all. But that won't be for quite a while.**

**Anyways… I'm starting to feel like crap, again, so I'll stop this here. THANK YOU for reading over my story, and ENJOY the rest of your week!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You chuckled as you played with the reaper kids, waiting for Rosie to come back. Sadly, this place barely has anything fun to do except a few deteriorating old toys and a few bookshelves, which weren't exactly spilling over with books or anything, but right now you were sitting in one of the bedrooms, children's book in hand. "And… the _evil~ step mother_ danced on hot coals until she burned to death, and our little Snow White and her dashing prince lived happily ever after," you smiled, closing the book with a sigh, and letting Uriel scoot the book off of his lap as he shoved it onto the mattress. "The end."

"Not as fun as Disney's Snow White," one of the children commented, as another snorted in response.

"Disney? What strange magic is that?"

"He makes films! From fairy tales, but they're tame compared to whatever that story was," another child of yours explained, but as they began to argue, again, you sighed, letting Uriel grip the upper collar to your shirt as you stood to your feet, picking up the book as you made your way to the bookshelf.

"No need to fight. And children, remember that the ones who belong in this time period have **no** idea what you're talking about. Explain the new inventions that came out, in the 20th century and beyond. That way, they can understand at least half of the words you're saying."

"Ms. Lara," one of the girls called out to you, tugging on the side of your pants until you turned to acknowledge her. "Are you… not staying with us?" she asked in a curious, but nervous tone, and you smiled lightly as you knelt down briefly, patting the top of her jet black locks of hair. "That Mrs. Stewart is a very mean lady. S-she hates us kids."

"Hate is a strong word, Charlotte," you began, kissing the top of Uriel's forehead before gently placing him into a baby's crib, before turning your attention back to her, "but yes. I will eventually leave –"

"But why?" David responded with a scoff leaving his breath, his foot stomping the ground slightly before he continued. "We like you here. You're nice. Mrs. Stewart is **not** nice. She starves us if we're being 'bad children', and her rules are extreme!"

"… Come over here," you told the children, kneeling down onto one knee as they all walked over to you, some a bit quicker then others, and you sighed as you corralled them over, your hands patting the top of Charlotte's worried head while your other hand was on David's shoulder. "If you children haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a reaper. I'm not the dead, and at the end of the day, until my time amongst the living is over, I'm not supposed to be living here.

"Time works differently here, amongst you reapers. The longer I stay, the more time passes among the humans, and before I know it, a week or two weeks may pass… Ms. Rosie told me I can go back home," you explained, turning your attention to David, "and I know you're mad and frustrated, but understand that I cannot stay here forever. I only let the reapers whisk me away because there was a war, and David, is there one right now? At this very moment?"

"Ah… n-no," he mumbled, shyly, and you smirked, patting the side of his face, before you tugged on Charlotte's dress, fixing it so it was straight, before you stood to your feet and sighed lightly to yourself. "… B-but Ms. Lara. What **if** something terrible comes? Ms. Rosie is nice, but she's not the best fighter. You are."

"Thank you for saying that David," you responded with a light smile, patting his head before you crossed your arms and sighed once more to yourself. "… In that case, we're going to have to fix that," you began, calmly shifting into your pockets as you fished out a small blue item, and you knelt back down, to David, and gestured for him to hold out his hand, which he does. "… Do you remember how the older ones used to call me? When danger came knocking at the realm? When the demons started to attack. This, David, may look like a simple smooth blue stone, but I've infused it with my energy. If you squeeze this stone tightly and think about me coming here, and the dangers you're facing, I'll be here at a moment's notice to come and help you," you told him, placing the stone into his hands, and you closed his fingers around the stone, giving him a grin at the nervous look on his face. "I entrust this to you."

"M-ms. Clara… I-I don't think –"

"David, don't you say you're the responsible one out of the bunch?" you snorted, though your snarky smirk gave away your amusement over his uncertainty. "Besides, by now I would hope you know the difference between a dangerous situation, where you children can die, and just being angry or annoyed by someone. Do not call me unless it's a life and death emergency… okay? If one of you kids are in danger of death or even Ms. Rosie, come call me and I'll show up… Can you promise that you'll do that, David?"

"Ah… y-yeah. Yes'um," he nodded, though you could see the hesitance upon his face.

Still, you smiled, rustling up his scruffy hair, before you sighed and slowly stood back to your feet. "Anyone of you can use the stone, in fact, but remember, I am living a mortal life, now. If I jump between the realms too often I'll start to lose who I am as a human.

"Again," you finished with a slight snort, but your head turned to notice Rosie was walking in, two kids right behind her as she gave you a meek smile.

"Sorry it took me so long. The orphanage caretaker, Mrs. Stewart, stopped me in the hallway."

"See? She's mean!" David stated, bluntly, but as he noticed the stern look you were giving him, he quickly closed his mouth and looked away, pouting in response. "… S-she's not as nice as you, Ms. Lara."

"Everyone is different, David. Some people are nice, and others are not. At least you **know** how this woman is, now, and can determine your actions based on her own," you explained as reasonably as you could, but you accepted the plastic bluish item into your hands, sighing contently that you finally had an inhaler again. "Thanks."

"Come back in about a week's time, and we should have some new medicine made for you. In the meantime, if something happens you can use this inhaler, but the expiration is rather close."

"Yeah. I figured," you chuckled nervously, before sighing to yourself. "… Thank you, Rosie. Seriously. For everything."

"N-no problem, but it must have been a few hours, now. I'll help you back –"

"No, no. I can get back to the humans on my own… Just… it may be a while before I'll see you again," you smiled meekly, pocketing the inhaler into your coat before you turned back to her and sighed deeply to yourself. "You take care, and please tell the others I'm not actually dead."

"Don't worry. I'll tell everyone. I'll walk you to the door," she told you with a smile, before telling the kids to wait for dinner before she grasped your arm, and began to tug you along into the hallway as you waved goodbye to the children.

You sighed, relieved. Your worries melted away like snow on a hot sunny day, the moment you saw the children. Saw the spunky David and little baby Uriel. All the children that you were worrying about… well, most of them, sadly not all, but at least they're here. Alive and well.

But you needed to give them a way to call you. You sensed demons, and they always target the orphans. Always. The abandoned. Abused and forgotten. You don't want to leave them, but… it seems to you that the reapers should be able to handle themselves.

You hope.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Who are **you**?" a wrinkly, round old lady scoffed in disgust as she brushed her dirty hands onto her dirty apron, her shinigami eyes staring into your light green gaze, while the two of you were having a staring contest.

It took all of your energy not to lash out at this ungrateful woman. After all, at least she has a job that's worthwhile, but you've only met her for less then five minutes, and already you want to wring her little neck. "The name is Clara."

"Well, **Clara**, we have rules here, and no unwanted visitors allowed. We already have **enough** of you… weird folk showing up, as of late," she scoffed, glaring at Rosie in particular, but before she could do anymore harm, you stood in front of the woman, in defense, as you matched her glare with one of your own. "Trying to change the natural order of things, and such. Our association is at the top of their class! And you little ingrates want to ruin everything our great council has built up. Now, **Ms.** Clara, are you one of these… newcomers? What? Were you sent to spy on me?" she scoffed, but before you could unleash your rage you heard Rosie whispering into your ear, gripping your upper arm to stop you from physically assaulting the woman.

"Remember, we need to play nice," she told you, indicating you can't just kill her… or at least beat her up. Whatever.

You sighed, giving her a light nod, but you were a bit too irked to actually give her a reassuring smile. "This is rich," you began with a disgusted smirk, "coming from a woman who mistreats the future of the reaper association in such a pitiful way. You spank them, make them starve, and live in their own filth for weeks on end? Not even bothering to make them wash their own clothes, but _let me guess~_, that'd be wasting water, now wouldn't it?"

"You don't understand!" she began in a weepy tone of voice that was enough to make you gag in disgust. "The higher ups do not provide me with enough money to help these poor souls. How am I supposed to take care of this many reapers without the proper money to spend on them? –"

"Oh, _**sure~**_ that's your excuse, but from my understanding you are given, at the very least, two hundred pounds per child, and three hundred for the infants," you spoke, or rather spat, and the fact that you knew that particular piece of information was enough to make the woman stop, and instead stare at you as you continued. "The real question is, where does that money go? The building is in shambles, but even if you have just enough to provide for the children, I hear you buy the worst sorts of garbage in order to feed them. Maybe they get three square meals, if they're lucky, but no seconds. And, no new clothes. You were given at least a thousand extra to help with the newcomers. Where is all that money?" you finished with a hiss, feeling Rosie's hand gripping your arm tightly.

But you didn't care. You're mad.

"… Exactly. You're not woman enough to tell me the truth. Typical," you stated bluntly, and she scoffed.

"What do you know?! You're just a child! Pah, me, I've had to deal with these ingrates for centuries! And these ungrateful worms **never** thank me –"

"Because you're a horrible caretaker, and a worse mother. You give them no amount of kindness, and don't even know their names, I bet. Who's that child? What's his name?" you asked, pointing to the open door as a few children popped their heads through, overhearing the conversation and becoming curious to see what was happening. "… Well? Speak."

"T-that's… Donny –"

"David," you scoffed in disgust, glancing over to point to a girl, who shied away once she noticed she was being targeted. "And that one? The girl with the curly brown hair. What's her name?"

"A-ah… Anne."

"No, it's Annabella, and she goes by **Belle** for short," you huffed in disgust, "and I only just met that beautiful little creature a couple of hours ago. She's not someone I know, yet I know her name. In my humble opinion, you have no right to be raising the next generation of reapers, let alone have any children of your own. If you did, they'd end up as delusional and abusive as you are," you scoffed, but you calmly waited for the woman to respond.

Or rather, lash out.

"How dare you! You know nothing, you brat! In fact, who even are you?" she scoffed, but you simply smirked as you stood a tad bit straighter, and you felt Rosie's hand leaving your arm as you stood in a matter fitting for a prideful noble.

If you had any pride for being a noble, which you doubt you'd ever have. Ever.

"My name is Clara, also known to my friends as Lara. You, you spit, may call me the Phantom," you spoke bluntly, waiting for her to respond.

And all she could do is laugh.

"What? What sort of name is that? You're not part of the Dispatch! No woman can be part of their ranks, anymore –"

"Fine. Then I'm a rogue. How about that?" you smirked in such a manner that looked more like a predatory hyena then an actual human smile. Nothing like you usually do, but you're holding back the urge to punch her in her little face. But before you could think about summoning your reaper energy and _show~ her_ what you really are, a voice broke whatever tension that was in the air.

A male voice.

"_What is this~?_ My little assistant showing a crabby old lady _whose boss~~?_" the man snickered into his long black sleeves, and you noticed the children were whimpering, moving behind the doors, except for David and two others because, well, they're either too stubborn, too curious, or brave to care.

"What are **you** doing here?" you scoffed in disgust and began to growl in annoyance as he wrapped his arms around you, suddenly pulling you into a hug against his chest. "H-hey!"

"What am I to think? When my little assistant has been gone for two solid days, now. You had me worried," he sighed, running his hand through your head and brushing through your locks as if you're some irritable puppy.

Or kitten.

And you cursed yourself for letting out an irritated hiss in response. "Hey, hey! Off!" you scoffed, shoving him once, then twice, until he finally let you go, and you took a couple of steps away as you glared up into his covered face with a growl leaving the corners of your breath. "**You** kept insisting on avoiding the issue, and I just got fed up with unknowing. If you had just told me that you could get the information about the children or not, then I wouldn't have left. Besides," you continued, crossing your arms over your chest and huffing, "I wasn't planning on being gone for very long."

"That's right… sir," Rosie continued, for you, and the two of you glanced over to her, while Mrs. Stewart snorted underneath her breath at how soft and sweet the younger woman's voice actually was. Not just to superiors, but just about to anyone… except her, these days. "It's my fault. I would have sent her home, but we had to… talk," she chuckled nervously to herself, before continuing. "My name is Rosie. Are you that mortician she's working with in the human world?"

"Indeed I am," he grinned, and you wonder if it's because it's Rosie who's asking or if he was expecting a different reaction, entirely. "You may call me _Undertaker~_."

"I thought it was **the** Undertaker," you smirked slyly, only to be playfully nudged by the man's elbow, and you couldn't stop yourself from snickering.

"Whichever works. We are in London, if you wish to visit. Are you one of her little friends from the future?"

"Yes sir –"

"I see," he responded, causing your eyes to roll as you grabbed his arm and nudged him in response.

But before you could say something, Rosie spoke instead. "I'm glad you decided to take our Lara in. She tends to get bored easily, but the only thing that keeps her around is the dead."

"Not all the time," you scoffed, but she shrugged her shoulders in response before returning her gaze to the much taller man.

"She enjoyed her job as a grave keeper, you see, and she was planning on going to college for forensic investigations, but sadly that never happened… I still feel bad for dragging you away from that life you had always wanted, Lara."

"Hey, hey. Don't get all weepy on me," you responded with a nervous chuckle, before rubbing the back of your neck. "Besides, considering everything that was happening, I would have been roped into the conflict, regardless if I avoided it or not. It's the end of **everything**. And you either give up and roll up into the fetal position, hoping it all blows over, or do something about it. And when have I _**never~**_ done anything?" you grinned, but she scoffed in response.

"You're stubborn. That's all."

"Indeed," you grinned a bit wider, before turning your attention back to the Undertaker, and letting out a sigh, "and **you**, I would have been back soon. I was just about to leave, but I got stopped by –"

"Yes. I noticed. Mrs. Stewart, is it? Or was it Mrs. Tanner?" you noticed Undertaker smirking at the woman, though he didn't seem kind about it, and you thought maybe his glaring through his bangs was enough to frighten the woman.

Apparently, you were horribly mistaken.

"Ah! I see it now! You're the Legendary Death, aren't you?" she gasped in an excited fashion, but you just gave Rosie a confused look, which she returned. "_Where~ did you go?_ We were so worried about you," she spoke, but your eyes narrowed at the way she was obviously swaying her hips, smiling a sweet smile you've seen on multiple women, for different reasons.

It took all of your energy not to growl, but instead you sighed, deeply in frustration, and her sharp eyes turned back to you as she scoffed. "How dare you act so casual with the Great Death? –"

"Great Death? Legend? If he's legend, shouldn't he be dead? No offence," you stated bluntly, and he chuckled in response.

"None taken, child –"

"And even the legends are grim reapers. There's nothing that sets them apart from anyone else –"

"Says a stupid child like yourself! You know nothing about reapers," she scoffed, putting her hand upon her chest. "_I~~_ do. You're an infant compared to me –"

"Yes. I am. Which is a shame, considering I know a lot more about the association then you apparently do. Blind loyalty leads to a foolish downfall," you stated bluntly, scoffing before turning a grin over to Rosie. "Am I right, or what?"

"Most certainly," Rosie responded with her own smirk, before sighing and continuing, "but a Legendary Death. Isn't there a few of them? And all legends died off by the 20th century."

"And why's that, my dear?" you heard Undertaker ask in a curious, but also pondering tone of voice, and she shrugged in response.

"A war we're not supposed to talk about… right, Lara?"

"… Let's just say certain things happened **before** the end of the world. Sure, humans are to blame, but us supernatural entities didn't help the process. Reapers got too… full of themselves. I'll say it that way," you began to explain, glaring over at Mrs. Stewart before continuing with a sigh. "There was a lot of deaths. Too many souls to reap, and not enough reapers to do so. No, that wasn't the problem. There were enough. Death made it so, but they were not trained properly. Slow and sloppy. They lacked training against other supernatural entities. Sure, disgust, but nothing to combat the actual threats.

"So, when demons and devils poured out of the underworld and onto the earth, easily gobbling up human and reaper souls alike, the situation became dire. And it just became worse and worse… but I won't go into the details," you decided to say, causing Rosie to pout.

"The entire reason why reaper children like ourselves were created," she responded, and you gave her a curious look as she continued, her eyes glaring over at the orphanage caretaker. "The reaper children were too weak and feeble to get the job done. They were slaughtered like calves in a slaughterhouse, fattened and then chopped up. The council became _sooo~ desperate_ that they sent out a few selected reapers to… impregnate human women."

"They hoped it'd be enough, but of course, it wasn't. What they wanted was –"

"A child that could embody Death itself," Undertaker frowned at that knowledge, and you gave him a light nod in return, while Rosie looked shocked that the man knew and Mrs. Stewart just looked utterly confused.

You'd be laughing if it wasn't for the fact that you were still annoyed with the female.

"Exactly. When my brother failed, they had my father produce another child. I was the next hope," you scoffed in disgust, "but considering everything that happened, my father didn't care about me. No one really did. And sure, if I die in battle today maybe I can become that embodiment, but I can tell that's not what Rosie wants, is it?" you stated rather bluntly, giving her a critical look as she frowned in response.

"You don't deserve a life like that," she replied, but you sighed and rubbed the back of your neck at her words.

"You know what? It doesn't even matter. Not really. Because, as you said, **you** reapers can handle this… So **handle** it. But, if you dumbasses decide to try again with a new human child… I'm going to come back. I'm come back from the grave and take care of those narrowminded bastards myself," you scoffed in disgust before continuing, "because no child needs to be put through the same pain and suffering I've endured. Not if it can be helped."

"Yes… No child should," Undertaker responded, and you cast him a curious glance, but he simply smiled lightly in reply. "Yes… Well, we have wasted enough time here. Can we go home, now?" he asked, holding out his hand to you, and you gave Rosie a look as she grinned and waved you off.

"Be a human, Lara. You deserve it."

"If you say so," you sighed to yourself, but then you let your hand fall on top of Undertaker's, and you stared at it as he grasped your hand before tugging you along.

"You better take care of those children from now on, little miss Stewart. I wouldn't want to have to come back here because my assistant killed someone for being _**too greedy~**_" he grinned, but you could tell it was an irritated, serious smirk, and when she shuddered, finally feeling the threat his words brought, you sighed, tugging on your gripped hand to get his attention.

"Hey. I can defend myself, thank you," you scoffed, but he smirked deviously in response.

"_I know~_. I just couldn't stand by and let her insult you," he responded, and you turned back around, noticing the orphans and Rosie… and even Mrs. Stewart, and you gave them a slight wave before turning back so you could tell where you were going.

"I suppose I should thank you… but I'm more worried about what you overheard," you decided to say, but he smirked in reply.

"_Enough~_"

"Enough isn't a good enough answer," you scoffed, but he simply snickered at your response, causing you to roll you eyes and sigh deeply to yourself. "… You are Legendary Death, huh?" you decided to say, causing his eyes to look over at you, and he let out a rough, irritated huff.

"Yes… I am. Sadly."

"Explains some things, like how we have a very obvious reaper barrier, but not even demons will notice it, unless they step right into it. Or how your aura is so suppressed that even I couldn't tell, at first. Just faintly," you decided to say, causing the man to look over at you as you frowned. "But… it's true, though. Any legend, rogue or otherwise, ends up dead before I'm ever born."

"Hmm… Then all I am is a legend, by then," he stated, and you gave him a curious look.

"Sure, but I'm more intrigued then shocked. My father always talked up the fact he knew this famous Legendary Death. Idolized him. Wanted me to idolize him. Thing was, he kept blabbing saying he was the perfect embodiment of the reaper ideal. To do your job efficiently and swiftly, without any delays or mishaps… Now that I see you in person… I'm going to have to wonder just how much the council lies to their reapers, or if he was the liar," you decided to say, a thoughtful look crossing your face, but before he could respond you continued with a sigh leaving your breath. "Every legend has their flaws, but they saw the Legendary Death as the one without flaws… which means it's a lie."

"Yes. It is. We all have our problems," Undertaker responded, but he was surprised when he saw a smile on your face, instead of a sad, confused look. "… Why are you smirking?"

"Oh… It makes me feel a tad better that even legends have their flaws. That no one is perfect," you grinned at him, before you sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. "So, ah… did I miss a lot?"

"A bit._ I became worried~_ after all. I was hoping you'd return, but…"

"… Sorry. I could have left a note, but it was rather spontaneous," you decided to say, causing him to snicker in response. "… What?"

"Here I was, thinking you had been kidnapped, but now I see you're perfectly fine," he snickered, but you rolled your eyes at his snickering.

"I may be human, but humans are more then capable of defending themselves –"

"_Perhaps~_, but that doesn't mean I won't worry," he retorted, and you sighed to yourself.

It didn't matter, at the end of the day, and you're too tired to argue. But… you pressed your hand up against your inhaler, hidden away in the pocket of your jacket, and smiled lightly to yourself.

One of the things you lost, but certainly the most precious, to you. Out of anything you may have owned, not having your inhaler can mean the difference to life and death. To living or dying. Sure, these days you don't necessary need your inhaler as often, but… it's better to be safe than sorry. And you should probably tell Undertaker about your inhaler, just in case. If anything can kill you before a demon or old age can do it for you, it'd be having an asthma attack. And in this day and age…

Nah. That'd be the worse way to go. Especially since you have no way of fighting back, except with an inhaler and maybe getting some fresh air.


	11. Living in the Victorian Era 3

**A/N: HEY GUYS! **

**I would have posted another chapter yesterday, but then I got invited to go out somewhere… and I'm still feeling pretty sick. I'm just reviewing a chapter or two so I can do something. I was going to go on a walk today… but then it snowed. Geeze, and here I was excited for summer weather.**

**Well, whatever. Can't have it all, I guess**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

After a good night sleep, and a long day of work, finally the two of you were sitting at dinner, chewing on leftover beef stew and slices of loaf bread. The two of you fell silent after you returned to the human world, and you weren't sure if it was because of you… or Undertaker was just thinking.

You've only seen him like this when he's working very critically on something, or some client rubbed him the wrong way, but today it was different.

You decided to start, sighing to yourself before talking. "Did I… do something wrong? I didn't realize you were so worried about me. Not that it bothers me too much, but I'm just concerned," you began, giving him a curious look across the table, trying to analyze his movements, his posture. His movement to sit up, a tad straighter, and the sigh that left his breath as he continued to think. "… I'm sorry?" you decided to say in an unsure tone, but the unsure tone in your voice made him smirk, and quickly shook his head.

"No need for apologies. In fact… maybe I should apologize. I haven't been entirely honest about who I was –"

"If you're concerned about the whole 'legend' thing, don't be. Unlike most reapers, I don't care," you told him, slurping on some of your stew before gently setting down the bowl before continuing. "It's just a title. That's not who you are. And for you, apparently, that's in the past… right?"

"Certainly," he chuckled to himself, lowly, pausing for a moment before sighing again, shaking his head, and causing you to give him a curious look. "N-no… I feel cruel for the fact that I know so much about you, yet you attempt to keep your secrets to your chest. Here I am, knowing more about you then you do about me."

"… Do you want to tell me something?" you decided to say, noticing the hesitative expression on his face, and then you shrugged. "You don't have to. You have no obligation to."

"… My name isn't really the Undertaker. I took that… name after I came here, to the human world," he began, thinking for a moment before giving you a meek smile in return. "As far as I understand it, I'm one of the last legends alive and existing, in this current day and age. Some call me Legendary Death, but at the work place it was always Mr. Death."

"Hmm… Do you not have a name?" you asked in an intrigued tone, but he simply smirked in response.

"Yes, actually, but I'd rather not use it. It brings back terrible memories," he explained, causing you to nod your head slightly.

"I get that. I don't particularly care to remember my family, either. If I hadn't been a reaper, I may have become one just by committing suicide at a young age," you decided to say, causing him to frown at your confession.

"… You say that so casually. That shouldn't be healthy."

"It's not, but I do. Because it's the truth, and I don't like lying," you explained, giving him a stern look before your gaze grew soft and a tad unsure. "… What else did you overhear? I'm serious. I-I need to know."

"Hmm…" he mumbled to himself, but as you continued to pout he set his spoon down into his bowl, lacing his fingers together and placing his chin on top of his hands. "You have some very interesting thoughts about us reapers, but that's not what bothers me. In fact, I believe you are a very smart and influential woman, my dear."

"… Thanks?" you responded, unsure if you should thank him or not, and he grinned to himself before his eyes fell, staring at something on the table before continuing solemnly.

"However… you told that woman you are also known as Phantom. Why? Don't tell me those reapers slapped the label of legend on a mere child," he frowned, and you gave him a curious look before sighing and rubbing the back of your neck.

"Kind of… I'm no legend. Not at all, but we do and did need to use code names. Especially me, at first. Except for my brother, no one really knew I was a half bred, and my father thought I had died… Fine," you sighed to yourself, your blue eyes growing serious as you stared at the man across the table. "I'll tell you the reason, if you promise to never tell another soul. Even your informers. Even the high council. No one needs to know this. Especially now. There's no reason."

"I promise," he responded, and you gave him a hesitant look, but he continued with a grin, "I wouldn't disclose my own personal information if I thought you couldn't keep your secrets. I can only say that I will keep your own secrets to my own chest… as long as you insist upon it. Of course."

"Of course," you smirked, but then you slowly pouted, your hand moving the meat and vegetable chunks in your bowl, wondering if you should really tell him, but… well… what can you lose, at this point? "… I've been avoiding my surname for a reason," you began, a tired and dark look settling over your face. "My family, both human and reaper, have a past I want to avoid, but… I don't think I can, anymore. At least with the human side, but hey. Maybe coming clean with everything will make me feel better," you decided to say, turning your gaze to the Undertaker as you continued solemnly.

"My name is Clara, Clara W. Phantomhive," you began, pausing for the man to process that information as you continued as seriously as you could muster, without running off and hiding away somewhere over the fact you came clean. "I prefer the name Lara. And… the devils know me as Phantom," you continued, causing him to give you a curious look, as you continued with a smirk. "Rather, my enemies know me as the Phantom. My abilities enable me to appear and disappear at will. I can sneak up on my enemies rather effectively, these days…

"… Do you hate me?" you decided to say, causing the man to give you a confused look.

"What? N-no… why, should I?" he asked, and you gave him a meek smile, but you avoided any eye contact with the man.

"Don't you understand? Eventually, the Phantomhives leave their duties as the royal watchdog… We have a good reason to, but by the time I'm born any sort of loyalty to the crown or any thoughts about 'duty' have been tossed aside. Still, we are frequent targets by the supernatural. Demons, angels, fey, you name it. Anyone and everyone…

"I kept that secret from you because I was afraid," you continued in a meeker tone of voice, "b-because… I… hate it. Being a Phantomhive. Thinking I need to constantly be doing something, while knowing that it's a wasted effort. I'll end up dead, and life moves on. And after hearing what the council really had in mind when I was born and began to grow… I'm sickened. I'm disgusted with myself," you told him, moving your head upward to give him an uneasy look. "I get it, if you hate me. Despise me now. It wouldn't be the first time someone hates my very existence. In fact, I shouldn't even be here, so… I'm… I'm sorry for being misleading," you decided to say, but before you knew it you felt arms wrapping around your shoulders, and a chin propped up upon your head.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, young Phantomhive."

"B-but –"

"Look… I'm sorry if you thought I would be mad. On the contrary, this just shows your family bloodline exists for generations to come," he smiled to himself before he continued to frown, "but… seeing you this way is unbecoming of a lady –"

"I'm **not** a lady. Stop saying that! We lost our titles as earls and I'm not some Victorian noble woman. Stop saying that! –"

"Regardless what **you** think, I see you as a lady. You want to know why?" he spoke, your eyebrows scrunching together in confusion as he continued in a soft tone of voice. "It's because… you are a young lady, who is strong willed and witty for her age. You already know who and what you are, and you never back down from a challenge. Perhaps I enjoy the laughter you bring me, but to be honest… I'm glad you came to my store. It's as if you dropped out of heaven," he chuckled to himself, earning him a slight scoff in return.

"That's kind of a cheesy line, Undertaker."

"_Perhaps~_, but I'm not insulting you because I'm calling you lady. In fact, it's a form of respect. Not a sign of stupidity."

"… Maybe, but I'm no lady. I'm not. If you just knew of everything I've done… I doubt you'd like that side of me," you decided to say, but he scoffed in response.

"I could say the same thing about myself, but didn't you say that is in the past? Besides, what's amazing about humans is how quickly they can change. From kind innocent souls to greedy murders, and then back again to kind hearted individuals. It's amazing to watch," he snickered to himself, while you gave him a curious glance, before sighing to yourself.

"I just… feel stuck. Stuck between two worlds. It's hard, sometimes, and my thoughts can be rather dark… Finding peace amongst the dead is the best I can hope for," you decided to say, turning your head slightly to look up at him. "But I am surprised you put up with me. I can be a bit of a bitch, at times."

"Gah! Perhaps, but it's still enjoyable to watch!" he giggled, and you huffed at him, but then you felt the oddest thing:

He kissed you, on the back of your head, before he stood up and went back around the table to his seat, while you looked at him wide eyed, as if he just told you the craziest thing on the face of the earth. "… Let's not have any tension between us, alright young one?"

"Ah… I-I suppose…" you mumbled, giving him an unsure look before you turned to your food and decided you needed to finish it before it gets cold. But as you ate, you couldn't help but let a content smile appear on your face. "… I'm glad, though."

"What for?" he asked, and you gave him a light smile in return.

"That the kids are okay. That they didn't actually die… We lost some, but we didn't lose everyone. And at the very least… no one thinks I'm dead, anymore," you smiled meekly to yourself, crunching on your slice of bread before you sighed underneath your breath. "… Though… is it just me, or do they not want me around?" you decided to ask, and he gave you a light smile in response.

"I'm assuming your Rosie friend wants you to live a human life. Not have to worry about the affairs of the reapers."

"Y-yeah, but –"

"The real question is: do you still want to be human?" he decided to ask, and you gave him a slightly surprised, but then unsure look in response, causing the man to nod and slurp at his bowl. "… Be who you want to be, young Phantomhive. You alone will know what to do."

"Hmm… don't call me Phantomhive, either," you scoffed in disgust, causing the man to giggle underneath his breath.

"Whatever you say, _my lady~_" he grinned, and he began to laugh as you let out a low growl in response, but then you grew quiet, sighing and then picking at your food as you thought over his words.

What you want to do? That… is something different. You've never thought about what you want to do. Usually, the choices have been made for you, in one form or another. Your parents. Brother. The reapers. It's not like you really had a choice… well… you did make a choice, but would you really abandon someone in a life and death situation? That's simply not your style.

But thinking about yourself… that's hard…

But you do have some spending money, that doesn't really need to be used for food or clothes. Maybe you could buy something for yourself? Just a little something you can enjoy.

Maybe?

At least, so you can waste some time… and try to enjoy this human existence you agreed to live within. It doesn't mean you don't miss the reapers, the orphanage… Rosie, but it just means you need a break. A nice, long, necessary break.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Since today was a slow day, you decided to make your way out into London, a basket under one arm and a shopping list in the other, intent on finding something fun to occupy your time. Doing art… maybe a book you could read… something. Something exciting.

After all, now that you're not as stressed out as you used to be, it's about time you do something exciting… right?

But, there was work to be done, of course. You first stopped by a few floral shops Undertaker frequently uses, ordering a few bouquets, some of them specific, for some of your newer guests… It's still hard to use that word, guests, for corpses, but whatever. Patients, guests… it'll work. Then, you went to the local seafood market down by the docks, buying some food you hoped will be relatively tasty, for the next few days. Then, you began to make your way through the busier side of London, the shopping district. There, you could find practically everything… and you mean everything.

The moment you noticed an 'Oriental' style teahouse, you had to go inside and take a look. "… Hello?" you spoke in a curious tone, noticing the front store to the teahouse was vacant, but then you noticed a whole array of teas, your eyes quickly taking a look at the prices. "… Huh. Not bad," you mumbled to yourself, deep in thought as you began to look around, reading the labels as you walked as you tried to find something that fit your fancy.

Which led you to a different table, entirely. It was full of much smaller containers of tea leaves, placed into smaller bags. It was very cheap compared to the big pound bags, but you could tell it would be less expensive to buy the entire pound. But, this way, you can try a few different flavors before deciding on anything too concrete.

You grabbed some green tea. Regular green tea, a fruity berry green tea mix, and you were surprised to unearth an apple flavor, though it seemed to be outdated.

Whatever. That never stopped you before!

Then, of course, the black tea. English breakfast, of course, but also a Chinese style black tea, and a Japanese style black tea. You grabbed two Japanese bags. Then, a 'winter' blend, which you might as well try, and oh! A cherry blossom bag! You had to grab that tea.

After grabbing much more then you thought you'd be spending, you quickly made your way to the black teas, grabbing another cherry blossom bag, this time the one pounder, and calmly made your way to the shop's counter. You noticed there was a fairly young man standing behind the counter, with squinty almond eyes and black locks of hair, like a typical Asian, but you had a feeling he was… in his late twenties? "Good morning. Sorry for intruding, but I wasn't sure if someone was in."

"It is fine. We do not get many visitors," he explained with a smile, causing you to slightly nod in return.

"_**Well, I'll be honest, I'm glad I found a place like this.**_ Nàme, Hónglián Huā Lóng ba?" you smirked, causing the man's eyes to light up at your words.

"A! Nǐ zhīdào pǔtōnghuà ma?"

"_**Basic Mandarin. Just to get by. But I'm not the best at it,"**_ you chuckled nervously, while the man grinned.

"_**It alright. English is hard, as well."**_

"_**Indeed,"**_ you grinned, watching as the man calculated your purchase on a calculator, a scrap of paper, using a pen in his hand, and you gave him a curious look before looking around the room. _**"It makes me wonder,"**_ you mumbled to yourself, before turning your attention to the man. "… Sir?"

"Shì?" he asked, and you continued as calmly as you could muster.

"_**Are there other Oriental styled businesses around here? Asian, like China and Japan specifically. Or even the Pacific Ocean islands? I'm new in London, so I do not know,"**_ you spoke in perfectly mustered Mandarin, and you watched as the man paused, glancing you over, before giving you a light smile in response.

"_**A white woman born in Asia?"**_

"_**Born in America, but I spent half of my life in Asia. Japan, specifically,"**_ you told him, and he grinned from ear to ear.

"_**Ah! You speak Mandarin very well for a Japanese lady! Hmm… sadly, there are not many here. No good restaurants, either. I'm just hoping to make some business."**_

"_**It's alright. I was just asking," **_you decided to tell him in a nervous tone, realizing maybe he was new at being here in London, as well. _**"… Well, if this tea is good, I'll certainly be back."**_

"_**Tell your friends," **_he responded, but you smirked in response.

"_**Of course I will. Considering its Asian tea, it's probably the best! I prefer it over any European blend," **_you told him, and he chuckled lightly in response.

"Hǎo, Liánghǎo… _**I could recommend a place, two blocks away, but it may not be suitable for a lady, such as yourself."**_

"… _**I'll just look around. Thank you, sir."**_

"_**You're welcome,"**_ he responded, giving you a wave after you accepted the brown paper bag full of your tea. You were grinning from ear to ear as you left, and you hope this is as great as you are hoping it is.

It's been a while since you had Asian tea. When the apocalypse happened, luxuries like tea from a far off country wasn't something you could easily access, and they were terribly expensive. These prices though… well, you still have some cash. Maybe you'll stop by a candy store?

Instead, you found a cute little bakery, and you stepped inside and took a curious look around. A German bakery, it looks like, which reminds you of the bakery that's only a ten minute drive from your house. You sighed. That's right… you don't live in the future anymore, which means this is your reality. Still, the pastries look good, and you decided to buy two of three different items before calling it a day.

However, the moment you rounded the corner and noticed the mortuary building, you saw a carriage seated right in the front, meaning someone was inside. You sighed to yourself, trying to muster a bit of a smile, until you saw who was standing by the carriage doors. "Oh. Good afternoon, Mr. Tanaka."

"Lady Clara, is it?"

"That's right," you chuckled lightly, before turning your attention to the doors. "… Do you think I can just go in or…"

"The master is intruding on your residency. We should be apologizing, not yourself."

"True," you responded, pausing for a moment before turning to the man. "Say, ah, considering your last name, are you from Japan?" you decided to ask, noticing the man was giving you a critical gaze before chuckling lightly underneath his breath.

"Hai, I am, but that was many years ago. Too many to count."

"I had a feeling," you smirked, noticing he wasn't giving you the best look in return, only to stare at you suspiciously as you took out one of the many little tea bags you bought. "Here. You can have this. It's Japanese blended black tea."

"I-I couldn't possibly –"

"I have two. In fact, I need a second opinion," you began in a thoughtful tone, causing the man to give you a curious look in return. "I just stumbled upon a new teahouse, you see. Oriental. More Asian then it is Indian. But the tea looks delicious, and if it is I promised I'll recommend the place," you explained, and he gave you a light smile in return.

"I see. You are a very informative woman, my lady."

"_**If you say so,"**_ you responded in almost perfect Japanese. One of the only languages, besides English, you can actually say correctly without thinking too hard. Noticing his shocked expression, you put your finger to your lips and gave him a slight wink, before continuing, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Tanaka-sensei."

"As do you, Lady Clara," he smiled, watching as you walked into the mortuary.

Only to see Undertaker laughing on the floor, and Vincent chuckling lightly at the man's response. "… Oh boy," you rolled your eyes, watching as Vincent turned to you with a grin, while Undertaker was gasping like a fish on the ground. "… I bought some fish. I hope you have a good recipe for it."

"Y-yes!... Yes," he snickered, trying to breathe, and you calmly set your basket of goodies down on a nearby table, not upon a coffin or casket because then it'd start to smell like fish, before turning your attention to the earl.

"I'm glad to see you didn't die, earl."

"Of course. What sort of Phantomhive would I be if I couldn't deal with two demons?" he smirked, causing you to raise a curious eyebrow at him.

"Indeed. Not a very effective one," you stated, bluntly, before you turned your attention to Undertaker, and then let out a tired sigh. "By the way, I put in our floral orders for the next few days. Hopefully we'll have enough for the funerals."

"Good job, my lady," Undertaker snickered, and you gave the two of them curious looks before sighing once more to yourself.

"Fine. Have a good rest of your day, Vincent. I'm going to put my stuff away."

"You enjoy your evening, Lady Clara," he responded with his own smirk, and before you could growl, you paused, before sighing and brushing off your frustration, causing the two men to give each other curious looks.

Well, it doesn't matter what you think. Either way, you had some fish you needed to go preserve, and you were more interested in drinking your tea then anything else, right now. Sure, you were curious to why the man was here, but honestly, you didn't care.

Pastries and tea were on your mind, right now. And nothing is going to stop your pursuit for a sweet treat!

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

_**Bold and italics sentences/phrases**_ – are spoken in a different language, but to make it easier I'm just going to write the conversation, mostly, in English

Also, I'm mainly using google translate, so I apologize if the translations are a bit strange. I did try to pick the better translation suggestions, but if you speak the language and it's wrong, then I do apologize.

! #$%^&*()

Nàme, Hónglián Huā Lóng ba? [Chinese] – So, Red Lotus Dragon, huh?

A! Nǐ zhīdào pǔtōnghuà ma? [Chinese] – What! Do you know Mandarin?

Shì? [Chinese] – Yes?

Hǎo, Liánghǎo [Chinese] – good, 'very' good

Hai [Japanese] – yes


	12. Living in the Victorian Era 4

**A/N: GEEZE, I still feel pretty damn sick. In fact, I don't know if I should be reviewing these chapters right now… but I don't care! I wanted to get at least one more chapter out. I haven't gotten around to writing more of my chapters though… I just haven't been up for it. That's why I'm posting.**

**Also, while I wasn't going to reuse titles, that's kind of why I was putting 1 & 2 after various chapter titles. And this is a continuation of 'Living in the Victorian Era', I suppose… I didn't want to come up with another name. Plus, the whole trip to the reaper realm was kind of a side story anyways. Just a little into to what can come, later.**

**But yeah! **

**And lastly, I do have an Undertaker POV in this chapter. After this chapter, there are some Undertaker POVs I throw in with Clara's POV. Though, with Undertaker's, sometimes I jump from using I/me to you. So, yeah, I'm sorry in advance. I'll tell you guys when an Undertaker POV is coming up, so you're not confused, but I've learned not to put **_**Undertaker POV**_** in front of scenes. I mean, if I wrote the scene correctly you should be able to figure it out, just by reading it.**

**Anyways, that's about it. I'm still rather tired, so I'm going to end this here. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND! And hopefully I can hear from you guys later.**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"She really is a cutie," the young earl chuckled to himself, before letting out a tired sigh. "Well, if you don't mind Undertaker, I must be off."

"Of course, earl. I always enjoy our visits."

"It's not every day I'm in the city," he chuckled once more, but then he paused as he began to stand, placing his beaker half filled with tea onto a table, as he gave a curious glance towards the door your assistant disappeared into. "… Is it just me, or is she a strange lady?"

"What do you mean?" you hummed, trying to push past the idea of the girl being 'strange', but the human continued with a tired sigh leaving his breath.

"Does she know me? She seems to know about the Phantomhives. Yet, she states she's from America."

"Now, my lord, _everyone~_ who dwells in London's underworld should know about the Phantomhives," you chuckled lightly, causing a slight pout to appear on his face.

_Awww~_. How adorable.

"Exactly. What do you think? Maybe she's some sort of criminal, or –"

"_Perhaps~_, dear earl, she is just a little girl who's looking for a way to live. Nothing to do with committing crimes," you decided to say, though you wondered why you wanted to defend her. Why should you? Yes, you know a bit about her past, and the two of you have exchanged information, but that doesn't mean you care about her.

It doesn't.

She's a human that can die like all the rest. Attaching yourself will only lead to more… complications.

"… She knows about supernatural entities, Undertaker. Maybe she's one of them," he decided to say, pausing for a moment before giving you a curious look. "Is she?... A grim reaper, like yourself?"

"_Maybe~. Maybe not~~_. Perhaps you should ask her yourself," you stated, and he sighed in response.

"I suppose… Take care, Undertaker. Maybe you can come by to see the family again? With your new assistant, of course. My wifie would love to see her."

"Maybe one day," you told the man, smiling as you ushered him to the door. "Now, take care. Enjoy your evening."

"You enjoy yourself as well, Undertaker," he grinned, leaving the store before you could tell him to, and you waited for a moment, by the door, before closing the door and sighing underneath your breath.

To think, how much little Vincent has grown… and his sister, as well. The Phantomhive children are no longer children, with lives and families of their own.

Time does move faster here… amongst the humans.

You sighed once more to yourself, before you let a grin perch itself upon your face. Right. Your new little guest seemed to have brought a mystery basket home with her, and you barely bothered to make any comments. Plus, while you couldn't quite see the basket, you could smell the overwhelming smell of fish… as well as something… sweet.

And that's what peeked your curiosity.

With a grin and a bounce in your step, you left the parlor room and made your way into the hallway, up the stairs, where you know you'd find that girl of yours. The mystery girl. The time traveling girl… The face of the newer, future generation of Phantomhives.

Makes you wonder if she truly cares about her bloodline or not. Or if it's just a terrible burden… and curse.

You decided not to think about the past too much, and instead walk into the small space the two of you currently share, noticing the smell of recently brewed tea and a sweet taste in the air, causing your nose to sniff the air slightly before noticing your assistant sitting at the dining table.

She had the newspaper in her hands as she munched on a delicious, gooey looking pastry, with a tiny plate on the table in front of her, and the recently brewed tea sitting in a teacup. Her legs were casually crossed one on top of the other, and it took her a moment before she noticed you were standing there, taking the scene in as she smiled lightly in your direction. "Sorry for leaving, but I really wanted to try this new tea. I found an Oriental teahouse, you see. I may have bought a bit more then I should have," she chuckled to herself, and you let out a chuckle as well.

Not because her words were very funny, but the bright smile on her face and the gleeful gleam in her silver, tinted blue eyes was enough to make you smile in return.

"I also found a German style bakery, and bought some pastries. You can have three of them, if you'd like, and I brewed more tea," she told you, pointing into the kitchen, towards the stove and the nearby countertop, and you chuckled in response.

"Sounds delightful, my lady. Thank you."

"Of course," she responded casually, sipping on her tea before reaching back over for her pastry, and you happily made your way over to the stove, sniffing the sweet scent into your nostrils, licking your lips at the taste.

"What is this?" you couldn't help but ask, and noticing your curiosity, she let out a snicker and sipped some more of her tea.

"Cherry blossoms tea. Black tea, to be specific. I just **had** to buy this tea. Don't you know how uncommon a tea blended with Japanese cherry blossoms is?... Right. Of course not. You're an Englishman, after all," she scoffed, causing you to chuckle lightly, as you poured yourself a plentiful cup of tea, before making your way over to her teacup and pouring some more into her almost empty cup. "Y-you don't have to do that."

"Of course I should, my dear. Now, what is it you're reading?" you asked in a curious tone, going back into the kitchen and placing the hot teapot on the side of the hot burner, before reaching into the brown bag with a devious grin on your face, and looking at the various pastries with a keen interest, grabbing two delectable looking breaded pastries.

"The local London news," she told you, simply, before she sighed and gave you a curious look in return. "Is the earl investigating the latest string of murders? The ones on the East End of the city?"

"_Indeed he is~_" you giggled, and she smiled lightly, giving you a nod as she went back to reading the newspaper.

"I see… You should tell me how that tea tastes. If it's any good, I promised I'd recommend the place," she decided to tell you, and you chuckled in response.

"If it tastes as good as it smells, _I believe it'll be delicious~_" you grinned, before calmly making your way to the table, goodies in hand, and you let them drop onto the wooden table as you sat down into your chair, letting a light sigh leave your breath.

You couldn't help but watch the girl as she'd casually sip from her tea cup, before reaching over for her pastry, and flipping the newspaper once she finished reading a particular page.

You couldn't stop the grin that grew on your scarred face.

Even though she insists that she's no lady, and may not talk like a lady, the way she holds herself and her movements is everything ladylike. Her physical features can be considered envious to any woman, and while she doesn't seem to care…

You cannot help but see an old soul flickering deep in her little human body.

It was a familiar soul. One you've probably seen before. Possibly recently. Probably, recently.

But now that you know that she is a Phantomhive…

There's no mistaking it.

You don't want to admit this, never to her, but she does remind you of your dear young countess, Claudia. Their physical features are a bit different, but the sharp stare in her eyes, and the smiles that caress her face whenever she's happy… how bright her soul can become, if you simply make her laugh or do something that pleases her.

Yes… she's a spitting image of your Claudia. From her mannerisms to her attitude. The language she uses is different, but her crude, blunt behavior, and her honestly, reminded you of the countess…

How long has it been now? Almost fifteen years now, since her death…

… And now she's back. So close that you could practically feel her presence.

Does… this girl even know that?

You sighed to yourself as you munched on your pastry, deep in thought. It's probably best that she doesn't know. That the possibility of a soul coming back, becoming reused and reincarnated, isn't a thing that can happen to mortals. You've seen it happen, though. If not just in this girl, but many other humans.

Mainly, from humans that end up becoming grim reapers.

You can recall seeing into their past lives before you harvested their souls, only to see that very same soul back, in a new body, but because of one reason or another, that human commits suicide and ends up revived as a grim reaper. It's a sad fate that you've witnessed many times over… as if the longer the soul lingers, the more tired and frustrated it becomes.

However, once a human soul transforms into a grim reaper entity, or gets gobbled up by a demonic force, or even brought up to the heavens by an angel, it no longer appears in the land of the living. No longer gets recycled and reappears in a new, living human.

So… to see Claudia, or rather Clara, back among the living like this…

You should be happy, but you are not. Not really.

If you ever met this bastard of a father the girl constantly refers back to… It'll take all of your strength not to cut him down, right then and there. For bringing her back, like this. To live a miserable life, like this.

You can only hope this girl gets to live and die as a human. Never becomes revived, again. To become the very entity those damn council members were trying to recreate.

The age of gods and heroes is over. Legends should stay legendary, and should never attempt to be reawakened, ever again. Even if this child can be strong or smart or whatever… that doesn't matter. She shouldn't have to bear the responsibilities of the immortals. Especially if the fault is with them, and not with her.

Maybe you're just mad that you couldn't be there to stop this… Yes, the Phantomhive lineage holds interesting properties. A reason why you're naturally attracted to them, yourself, but for the council to think they can use a family of mortals like this…

Dreadful.

Absolutely disgusting.

"… Undertaker?" you could hear the girl calling out your name, snapping you out of your thoughts as you gave her a light smile in return. "Is everything alright, over there?"

"Yes. No need to worry about me, my lady," you chuckled, snickering as she let out a low, irritated snort.

"I told you, don't call me lady… How's the tea?" she asked, and you glanced at your teacup, noticing most of the tea was now gone, before giving her a grin.

"Delightful. A soft, sweet flavor."

"Great! I'm not the only one who thinks so," she giggled to herself, causing you to chuckle lightly underneath your breath.

Ah… she is a sweetheart, isn't she?

Which is a shame she's endured so much, in her short little lifetime…

Obviously, she is a Phantomhive to have endured so much, and yet still smile and find joy in something. No matter how strange or grotesque it may be. Just, as long as she stays happy, with that smile on her face…

That's all you can possibly ask for. All you can hope for, in a girl such as herself.

To never become an emotionless soulless monster, like you are.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You sighed to yourself. The days crept by, turning into weeks, and now it was the summer. Even though the mortuary can be rather cool, considering you never heat up the place, except maybe at the top level, so the bodies don't deteriorate quicker, the place is still getting rather stuffy.

So, whenever the weather became too overwhelming to the point that you couldn't breathe and needed some air, you'd wander into the cemetery, new book in hand, and a beaker full of tea in the other. It must have looked weird from an outsider, but for you, you needed some filtered, clean air to recharge your batteries. You may have an inhaler, but that doesn't mean you can stay cooped up like a caged bird forever.

And speaking of cooped up.

You couldn't help but look up from the book you had been reading, an interesting novel about romance in high Victorian society, a sappy story, but you wanted to read something like that, right now, but you raised a curious eyebrow as you saw the Undertaker grinning from ear to ear, a fairly large basket in one hand and a table clothe in the other. "… Undertaker, what is this?" you decided to ask in a cautious tone, though you looked more curious then you did cautious.

He snickered in response.

"Considering you disappear, these days, around lunchtime, I figured we can both take a break. _What do you think of a little picnic~?_" he grinned happily, and noticing the smile you couldn't help but smile yourself.

"Sure, but here? We can find a shadier spot. I just sit at the top of this hill so I can see if you're coming by," you explained, slowly standing to your feet and brushing some of the dirt and grass off of the ends of your dress. "… Is there a spot you enjoy to sit at?"

"This spot, my dear assistant," he grinned, causing you to pause.

Okay… you need to rephrase that. "… Okay, why not an interesting place? The graves over there are older," you stated, pointing on the other side of the hill, further away from the city and closer to the woodsy countryside. "Why not in there?"

"Hmm… that may not be a good idea," he responded, causing you to pout.

"Why not? If you're afraid of the fey, don't worry so much. They don't usually show up to bother me," you smirked, causing him to eye you curiously, only to let a slight chuckle leave his breath.

"_Alright~_. Just for an hour."

"Hour. Keep an eye on the clock, then. I'm not very good with time," you told him, picking up your lukewarm tea, and he snickered to himself.

"Says a half reaper."

"Don't you know the time changes in whatever realm I'm in? That gets confusing!" you scoffed, nudging his arm as he continued to snicker. "_Come on~_. Stop giggling and let's go sit down."

"Okay, okay," he giggled, suddenly offering his arm to you, but you rolled your eyes, taking the table clothe from his other hand, before letting your arm link with his. With a grin and a slight skip in his step, he led you down the hill, further into the cemetery, to parts you've never noticed, before. Sure, when you first showed up, you noticed a lot. The differences between one side and the other, but walking slowly… you began to notice the pretty flowers that grow underneath particular trees. The full green leaves of thriving trees, and the fallen stumps of dead foliage and logs on the ground.

But what confused you, but also intrigued you, was when he led you to an old, crumbling building. It was smaller in size then the chapel used for funerals, smaller then the mortuary. Maybe if you smashed the parlor room and the kitchen together, that would be how large the building used to be.

Unlinking yourself from the Undertaker's grasp, you began to wander around. Moss and ivy had grown up the sides of the building, both condemning it to the land, but also keeping the structure from crumbling in on itself. You noticed a little burrow nearby, perhaps a bunny or some other small creature, and while the building was out in a field, the large tree trunks hang over the crumbling building, shielding most of the stones from sunlight. "… This used to be a mortuary," he began, his voice getting your attention as he set the basket down on a fairly tall rock, before gesturing for you to hand him the clothe. You smirked, coming closer to him, only holding out a corner to him, and with a grin you both pulled, the man instructing you to place the blanket down off to the side, in a brighter spot with your back to the wall, and your body facing out into the woodlands. "A mortuary-church. The monk that used to live here did both duties."

"Huh… How do you know?" you asked curiously, pausing for a moment before smirking to yourself. "Have you lived long enough to know the monk?"

"_Nooo~_" he scoffed at your accusation, but he gave you a cheeky grin as he set the basket down between the two of you, leaning back against the crumbling stones as he thought about his next words. "… I did my research. Sometimes, the most fun I can have is finding new information."

"Very true," you grinned, watching as the man began to grab into his basket, and you couldn't help but lean forward, wondering what he brought for the two of you as he smirked, lifting the basket lid in such a way you couldn't see the inside. "Cheeky."

"Cheeky? How _very British~_ of you to say," he giggled, and you rolled your eyes in response.

"I do need to blend in, you know… Considering I'm probably never going back home," you decided to say, noticing the man pausing for a moment, before sighing to himself and continuing with his task.

"Are you sad you're not going back? To the future?" he decided to ask, a thoughtful tone in his usually giggly tone of voice, and you paused, glancing over at him before you smirked and sipped on the tea in your beaker cup.

"I mean, there are things I liked and things I hated. Like this era I'm currently in… but comparing my leisure experience in the Victorian era and my time in an apocalyptic future… it's not exactly a fair comparison," you chuckled to yourself, thanking Undertaker as he handed you a plate full of food, and then a rolled up napkin with utensils inside, and you couldn't help but look at the food with a keen interest.

"But, if you could, would you return to your time?" he asked, his question a bit more on the nose, and you sighed to yourself, before unfolding the napkin and placing it on your lap, and placing the plate onto your lap as well.

"The only thing I'm sad about is leaving people behind. Friends behind. People who don't deserve the fate they've been casted… The thing is, if the past changes, that future I come from will disappear. Then, there's the question of, did we split off into a different timeline, and while our world is doomed, we can save this one," you decided to say, deciding not to talk about the theories on time and possibilities of different timelines, and instead just say that. "… I'm… rather lost, right now.

"I should move forward, I suppose, but the thought of doing absolutely nothing maddens me. And I feel like my companions have given up," you scoffed in disgust, reaching for your fork and picking up some of the rice, happily placing some into your mouth as you continued with a huff. "If it's up to me, I'll do it, but I didn't want to get involved anymore," you decided to say, but then you stopped as you heard him sigh.

"Then, don't be involved."

"Yes, but –"

"_Oor~_… Why do you believe you must do the task, child?" he decided to say, causing you to frown at him as he continued, munching on a chicken leg every so often as he continued. "You have no real obligations to these reapers. Even if they tried to make you into something you're not, that doesn't mean you should accept it."

"… There's something inside of me that nags me to 'finish the job'," you scoffed, giving him air quotes with your fingers before you put your hands down and sighed to yourself. "… More specifically, it's not that I have a sense of duty. It's not even about the promises I made in my past, and I wish to keep them. No, it's because it would be a shame for this world to crumble in the same way my world did. Even if I died, now, I wouldn't want to see that. Ever.

"Are you not concerned about the future, or am I just crazy here?" you huffed, giving him a pout, and he shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"I turned my back on the association and their rules a long time ago, my lady. What is the point in helping them, if I get nothing in return? They took everything from me," he stated, causing you to give him a concerned look, before you sighed, rubbing the side of your neck before you went back to your meal.

"… It's not about helping the association. Or the council. Or whoever. That isn't what drives me," you decided to say, noticing he was looking at you, but you continued with a meek smile on your face. "I made a promise to the little kiddos that they would never have to deal with the same pain and suffering I've gone through. I promised to be there, if the reapers needed me… but more importantly, I had to keep telling myself that all of this has meaning. I cannot accept that my birth is for nothing, and that my life was for nothing. Keeping myself busy and keeping true to my promises keeps me grounded, Undertaker. I would have killed myself a very long time ago if I didn't decide to keep my eyes on a goal," you told him, smiling at him meekly before glancing away and sighing to yourself. "Sadly, if the reapers don't even want me, what am I supposed to do? I accepted my fate, if I'm going to be honest here… I'm tired of searching for the answers, all the time."

"Those are questions that, sadly, you must answer for yourself," he decided to say, but before you could respond he continued, "but, you should do what you enjoy, my lady. You don't even have to stay at the mortuary. If there's a life you feel you must live, then live there. I won't be mad if you disappear."

"… Geeze. You must not like me if you want me to go," you snorted, but he quickly shook his head.

"I didn't mean –"

"No, I get it… Thing is, I **do** like it here. Ah… with you," you decided to say, quickly scratching the side of your face to hide your slight blush, before you quickly continued, "I mean, as your assistant, of course. This reminds me of my happier memories… and… working side by side with death like this is refreshing," you smirked at him, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

"… I don't go by Death, you know."

"I know," you chuckled, sighing as you continued to think thoughtfully to yourself. "It was my brother and I, you see. We're both halflings, and he's the one who killed himself and became a full fledged reaper… He… ran away from his life as a reaper, picked me up, and we lived together for years. In a morgue. Caring for the dead. He wanted me to be a doctor actually, but I kept refusing because the thought of accidently killing someone still frightens me," you chuckled lowly underneath your breath. "At least with the dead, they are dead. If I make a mistake, it isn't as severe as if they are living, breathing humans…

"But I don't know, still," you sighed. "I know you Victorians consider the age of adulthood to be, what, ten? Or something like that? But I'm only nineteen and I still don't know what I want to do with myself… In my time, that's a perfectly acceptable answer, but I know it doesn't mean much in this era," you decided to say, but as you felt a nudge on your arm you gave Undertaker a curious glance, as he grinned in response.

"You have all the time in the world, my lady," he grinned, but you gave him a sad, tired smile in return, which caused his own grin to diminish, slightly. "You do, Lara."

"Maybe," you responded with a sad smile, glancing away from him to stare down at your food. "… I-I don't know what to do… anymore. I spent so much time doing one thing and perfecting it that… I'm not even sure if I want to be… this human anymore," you decided to admit, smiling meekly to yourself before you sighed once more. "I-I don't know. Not giving this council what they want is tempting, if I'm going to be honest with myself. Just… if I kill myself, I'll lose a piece of who I am… but if I die and get resurrected, who's to say I'll still lose who I am, in the process? I'm… scared a-and I'm not sure –"

"Clara," you heard him speak, causing you to stop and give him a tired, unsure look in response, as he gave you a light, sympathetic smile in return. "You are a beautiful human. You don't have to change yourself for anyone's sake, except your own. I cannot tell you to commit suicide because… well, I'd be a hypocrite if I tell you not to, but you shouldn't believe you need to do anything for anyone else, except yourself. If you wish to stay human that is up to you. If you do not, that is your choice to make."

"… You like me as a human, huh?" you smirked at him, causing the man to give you an unimpressed look, while you chuckled lightly to yourself. "Good to know… but, I-I don't know."

"_If you wish~_" he began, his tone of voice getting your attention as he gave you a cheeky grin in response, "I could accompany you to the reaper realm, if you wish. Or perhaps you wish to go back to America," he decided to say, and you gave him an unsure look before smirking to yourself and shaking your head.

"Maybe what I need is a vacation," you decided to say, a thoughtful look crossing your face before you continued, "or maybe I should spend some time with more humans? What do you think?"

"Whatever you wish," he chuckled, though you could tell his voice was a tad dry and less enthusiastic, and you gave him a curious look before smiling lightly in return.

"This is a pretty spot, by the way. I would have never guessed this place exists," you grinned, a thoughtful hum leaving your breath as you continued, "cause, well, by the time I'm born, this sort of spot would probably have been bought up and demolished. The graveyard moved, perhaps. I don't know, but this sort of old architecture… I love it," you decided to say with a smirk, before you went back to eating your lunch.

All the while you weren't exactly sure what the Undertaker was thinking, but… if you were to guess.

It would be about you.

Considering he won't stop looking in your general direction as you ate. As if he was trying to imprint this particular scene in his memories, for the rest of his immortal life. Not that you care, but… that did make you wonder, just how long is a reaper's cinematic record? Is it any different compared to a human's? Questions you doubt would be answered, but it's a nice thought.

A curious thought.


	13. The Impending Dilemmas 1

**A/N: HEY GUYS! I've been feeling a bit later lately, so I decided to review another chapter… or two. I finally got back into writing, and whatever I was sick with, hopefully it's passed.**

**And finally, a new OC reaper has shown up! I've been thinking of having the others appear, eventually… but in the timeline, I'm not quite ready for that. Yet. So, here's another sneak peek to the problems the reapers are facing, but more importantly what Clara is doing.**

**Nothing, honestly. Nothing worthwhile, but something to do.**

**Anyways, I hope to have another chapter posted soon. Maybe it'll be in a few hours, but I want to take a walk and enjoy the fresh air. So, ENJOY YOURSELVES! And see you in the next chapter.**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You sighed as you sat in the living room, feet propped up upon the armrest with a sketchbook in your hands, and a pencil scribbling against the delicate piece of paper. It… wasn't the best, but it was something to do. Drawing. Sketching. It was a way to think over your thoughts, during some much needed free time.

After all, you were waiting for the pot roast to be done, and Undertaker was in the basement, working on some particular guests that needed extra care. So, sketching while you wait was something to do, at least. It wasn't the best thing to spend your time doing, but it's something.

You spent your time sketching the scenery. Things you've liked. Mainly, the graveyard. It's like taking a picture, except much, much longer. And less clear, but it was something to do. You've sketched different parts of the cemetery, the inside of the mortuary, and then you began to sketch whatever fit your fancy. A few skulls. An organ or two sitting in jars. Then, your past. At least, what you can remember. A sports car. A cell phone. Your old American town house, and then your old Japanese house… to the best of your abilities. Your memory of the past is starting to grow fuzzy. You can remember particular events and details, but certainly not images…

Which sucks. You don't want to forget everything! Sure, you live in this era now, but there's stuff you miss. A lot of things you miss.

And lastly, you began to sketch clothes you wish you could wear. First, articles of clothing you recall wearing and matching together, perfecting the design in the sketchbook, and then you went a step further to clothing styles you wish you had owned, but never bought. After all, you don't need to have a closet full of clothes. You didn't have the money and time to care, too much, but there are designs you miss. Like, trying out the gothic look. You kind of had the black hair already, but you weren't into the style… but you did go through a phase. So it's too bad you missed out on wearing more gothic clothes.

Maybe you could find something with skulls?

But before you could start sketching a particular skull head that has been in your mind for quite a while, you heard the bell on the front door ding, and you sighed, setting your stuff down on a nearby night stand, quickly turning off the stove so the pot roast doesn't burn, before making your way downstairs and into the parlor room.

Who you say made you pause.

"… Michael," you spoke, a slightly surprised tone in your voice as he turned from his nearby inspection of a dark mahogany casket, before turning to you and giving you a light smile.

"Lara. I'm glad to see you're doing well. I have a delivery," he grinned, holding up a small black duffle bag with a white imprinted skull on the front, but instead of handing it over, he let out a surprised 'oof' as your body collided into his, and you grabbed him into a tight hug.

"You ass! Just a, _you're doing well~?_ Aren't you surprised I'm alive?" you scoffed, but you kept hugging him before you calmly let him go, grabbing the duffle bag and opening it up with a curious gleam in your eyes, and a devious grin on your face. "Ah! Great. I needed some new inhalers."

"I assumed," he smirked slightly at your enthusiasm, pausing for a moment before glancing towards your front door, before turning back to you and sighing deeply to himself. "I want to… apologize," he began, but as he continued he watched as you paid him no real attention, sitting down on a nearby coffin to set the duffle bag on your lap, leafing through the other items with a keen interest. "We thought you had died… I mean, you weren't even breathing. Humans breathe, Lara. You're an anomaly amongst the normality."

"Perhaps, but I'm sure I would be dead if it wasn't for my current boss," you stated, before noticing a small bag filled with tampons, and you sighed gratefully at the sight. Every 'time of the month' has been a nightmare, and you're sure a certain _someone~_ was thinking of you when you were given this little supply bag. "… Oh! You even kept my hidden knives. Nice."

"You really think we'd let our enemies have grim reaper weapons?" he scoffed, pausing for a moment before slowly sitting down upon a casket across from you, eying you until you stopped looking through the bag, to give him a frown.

"… What?"

"Have you been well? Be serious. That reaper Rosie saw you with… she's concerned. In fact, I wanted to make sure you're happy here," he continued, watching you with a critical gaze, but your eyes narrowed suspiciously as you noticed his bright shinigami gaze behind soft locks of blonde hair.

"… I've been well. In fact, I kind of owe him. What? I should be skeptical? And what's with you guys?" you scoffed in annoyance, casually crossing one leg on top of the other while you placed the duffle bag beside you on the coffin. "You know all the times I risked my life, but here you are playing it **safe**? What in the seven hells is your problem? Pah! I would have assumed, considering you thought I was dead, that you'd do everything in your power to convince these reapers to change. _But nooo~_. The orphans are still in the slums, reapers are as arrogant as ever, and you're just lucky I haven't gone up there and gave them a piece of my mind!" you growled, almost standing to your feet, but before you could he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to sit back down while you gave him an irritated glare, and a harsh snarl. "… Have you seriously done nothing?"

"We… tried, Lara. Tried very, **very** hard, but there's some on that council that are blunt liars. That don't want what's best for everyone else, and are selfish. They only think for themselves… Johnny and I," he continued, sighing to himself and scratching the back of his neck, "… we had to play nice. Honestly. They don't give a shit about our problems. They were going to condemn all of us, including the orphans, as rogues… The only way to protect everyone was to comply," he told you, but as he noticed the harsh glare in your eyes, he instinctively flinched. "I managed to get everyone jobs, though Rosie insists on taking care of the orphans. Her debt to you, I'm guessing. And look, I already heard enough from Teresa, so don't cuss me out too."

"Why does this have to be so hard?" you sighed, closing your eyes and putting your face in your hands, and he gave you a frown in response. "… Let me guess, you don't want my help."

"As far as the council knows, you didn't even show up. Maybe a human thrown back in time, but no. I thought it was best that they never learned you exist," he explained, causing you to frown while he pouted. "What? You want to be whisked away like everyone else? Rosie told me you wanted to be human."

"I-I… never actually said I **want** to. She's obviously trying to protect me," you admitted, causing the man to sigh and scratching the back of his neck in response. "… The thing is, as a human, I only have a limited amount of time to live, and I'm not letting **any** other child deal with the same pain I was dealt. So, are you sure, things can change if I stay out of this?" you asked, watching as he sat there, giving you a solemn look, and you sighed deeply. "Thought so."

"That doesn't mean you should feel responsible. This isn't your problem –"

"Yeah, maybe it's not, but if my father fucks some other human woman and produces another child, neglects and abuses them, why **shouldn't** I feel responsible if I can prevent that?" you scoffed in disgust, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared in his general direction. "I know you don't really get it, but my father has this stupid sense of duty and obligation. God, if the higher ups told him to jump off a cliff and hit the rocks, I'm sure he'd do it! So, hell, if you're not definite I'm not needed… then just admit it," you told him, sternly, patiently waiting for a response as he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing away from you and leaning upon his knees.

"… Okay. Fine. You want the truth? Fine. Everyone is miserable, frustrated, and nothing is getting done. _Oh sure~_, I was told to be patient, but how long has it been? Months, now. Nothing has changed. Teresa hates her situation, and me for that matter, and so does Johnny. Everyone blames me. As if I can control any of this."

"What's preventing you? Fear, I'm guessing," you told him, pausing for a moment before sitting up a bit straighter and sighing once more to yourself. "… You do know I don't work within your rules, right? Your wild card, as you liked to say," you smirked, causing him to look over at you, before smiling lightly in response.

"True, but a wild card shouldn't be used until deemed necessary –"

"Yeah, well, once again I could be dead by then. For all you reapers talking about death all the time, you tend to forget I can die," you scoffed in annoyance, but he smirked in response.

"You know, I miss this… I was thinking," Michael sighed, deeply, his tired tone causing you to give him a curious look in return, "of disappearing."

You paused, looking him over, and realizing he was being serious. "… Why?"

"I mean, a-ah, nothing is working! And those damn higher ups think they know better! I'm getting sick and tired of not being listened to… When a powerhouse like you was by our side, we got shit done. Now a days, no one will give me a second glance. Give a shit about the fact that we just left a warzone. Maybe it's just PTSD or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"They've forced Johnny, Stevie, and myself into working in the field, but _then~_ they aren't giving Edmond a chance. Just because he's a tad on the short side."

"I bet Edmond and Johnny aren't taking this very well," you decided to say, and he scoffed underneath his breath.

"… Edmond refuses to use magic, now. I think he's going to leave, for good. And then Teresa is pissed that she hasn't been given a chance, either. Maybe Flora is the only one who's happy. I can tell even Rosie is getting anxious. At least with Flora, since she's a top notch healer, they've placed her in the infirmary as a nurse, and I hear that she's turned her apartment into a laboratory… but that could just be Teresa trying to gloat about 'women power' and whatever," he huffed, but you smirked slyly at his irritation.

"… You do understand women are being forced to do what the men want, in this era, right? Our say is rarely heard… Though, I wouldn't even know where Teresa could go. Maybe an American Branch? I'd think the rules are a bit looser. Maybe she could be a cowgirl," you snickered at the thought, and he shrugged his shoulders in response.

"The thing is, if we start to split up the same disaster can happen in this timeline… but I'm starting to think our world deserves it," he scoffed, his eyes looking up at you, only to notice your staring. "… What?"

"So, you'd rather let innocent beings take the blame for your stupidity, then try to fight for a better future?" you stated rather bluntly, and he frowned as you sighed, picking up the duffle bag and placing it upon your lap as you thought all of this information over. "… Maybe I shouldn't be human, after all."

"… But, Lara, you really don't need to get involved in this. I mean, you told me your soul is tired, isn't it? You have an old soul, or something like that. It lingers until the end of days, and considering it already happened, for us, maybe you can die in peace?" he decided to say, noticing you were staring at him critically, and he shrugged and slumped back onto his hands. "Just, think about it. If you let Death take its hold on you and turn you into a grim reaper, regardless if you quicken the process or not, wouldn't you repeat the cycle? Even if you die, you'll end up alive again? Just in a new body?... I'm sorry, but even if nothing is going our way, I'd hate to see you so miserable," he scoffed, only to freeze as you leaned over, putting your hands on his cheeks and forcing him to look into your bright, shimmering bluish eyes.

"You need to stop believing you know what's best for me, death," you spoke so sternly, so simply, that he couldn't help but widen his eyes, only for his gaze to soften as you continued to look into his bright, shimmering greenish/yellow double iris eyes. "A human has a thing called free will. You lost that when you committed suicide… If I want to off myself, let me do so in peace. And if I want to break down the gates of heaven and shatter the brimstone in hell, I'll do so. Do **not** tell me what to do," you finished a bit roughly, but you didn't care.

You're getting tired of people telling you what to do, mortal and immortal alike.

"… Now, Michael," you began, letting go of his face and sitting back onto the coffin, giving him a serious look as you continued as strictly as possible, "what is it are you going to do? Give up or keep fighting to the bitter end?"

"I-I… I suppose fight," he sighed to himself, causing you to smirk and nod your head slightly in approval.

"Fine. The real question is, are you going to wait for the council to make these decisions _for~ you_, when it's too late to stop anyone, or will you go the extra mile and start planning for the inevitable?... How I see it," you continued, casually crossing one leg on top of the other as you continued in a calm tone, "Death is tired of the disobedience its children are causing it. In Death's eyes, I like to think it let everything turn to shit because it wanted to start over. Those entities think that way, after all," you told him, before sitting back on your arms, "so, here's my suggestion:

"If the council will not prepare for the end, you get started. Have a safe place the reapers can go, when all hell breaks loose. A different dimension, realm, whatever. Because that was our biggest problem. We had nowhere to go. Stuck in the middle between hell and heaven could only destroy us. So, that's a start, and then, perhaps, doing some reconnaissance work and finding reapers that left the association. Perhaps, make your own group. Because trust me, I could tell what was happening.

"Whatever remained, Death and Life still went on, regardless if the humans existed or not. Thus, deathlings will still exist. There are those that have been kicked aside because they are not humanlike, other beings that left because they were tired of the association's bullshit. Or, most likely, they never agreed to work with the Grim Reaper Association, when it was founded long ago. **Those** entities, the ones that were against us and on the side of the devils… try to recruit them. At least then, they can cripple the devils and destroy the angels… It's their war, not ours. We just got stuck in the middle, and the fact that the reapers didn't do much to prevent it was the problem… I'm sure they're as sick of the association as you are," you finished with a thoughtful smirk, and he could only sigh lightly in response. "… If you're not up for it, then just accept that you let the apocalypse happen," you smirked deviously, and he scoffed.

"_**Yyyou~**_… Thanks, I think," he responded, but you chuckled lightly in reply.

"Look, we're in this together. For as long as I'm living, right here and right now, I'll be helpful… Even if all I'm doing is giving you a damn pep talk," you huffed to yourself, and Michael grinned for pausing for a moment, something coming to his mind before he looked over at you.

"So… Lara. Why don't you tell me what's happened to you, so far? Are you really doing well or are you just hiding your misery?" he asked, causing you to pout.

"I-I don't really want to –"

"Come now. If this guy is treating you badly I'll kick his ass," Michael stated, and you smirked at his wasted attempt at a threat.

But you paused, your smile weaning, and then you rubbed the back of your neck. "Well… if you really want to know… it's a bit crazy. I guess I'll start there."


	14. The Impending Dilemmas 2

"That must be weird, seeing your own relatives like that on a daily basis. I know Rosie is still freaked out… Are you going to ever tell them?" Michael asked, and you shrugged your shoulders in reply.

"Why should I? Besides, if he's _**really~**_ a Phantomhive, he needs to work to get that information… It's a lot more fun to be vague, after all," you told him, and he smirked at your resolve.

"… And what do you plan on doing, then? Just be an assistant? Marry or look for a relationship? Possibly… start practicing magic, again?" he asked, curiously, but you thought his words over before shrugging your shoulders.

"I'm still not sure. That's my biggest problem, right now… I like the dead. I don't think I want to replace that part of me," you began, glancing towards the Undertaker's desk and the bookshelf right beside it, staring at the rows of books and jars filled with organs, and your eyes slowly went to a skull before your turned back to him and smiled meekly. "… But maybe I should try other things? You know how Will was. It was always work, with him… I may be smart, but I kind of wanted to go into the arts. I just knew he wouldn't approve," you admitted, and he gave you a curious look in return.

"Oh? Like what?"

"I-I don't know. A lot of it is a hobby… but you know how I started that utube account and started animating? And people liked my music. I was even coming up with some original content… but life got in the way," you told him with a huff, and he smiled lightly in response.

"Yes… and it's not like we have computers. Sure, the reaper realm is a bit more advanced, but that doesn't mean we're as advanced as the 21st century… technology is a bit lacking."

"I miss electricity," you admitted with a tired sigh before giving him a light smile, "but, oh well. There's not much we can do about it now."

"True," he responded, the two of you nodded to each other as you began to grow quiet. "… You could buy an instrument, or maybe art supplies? Or writing. You could try that, right?"

"Maybe… but that'll just give me a hand cramp," you scoffed, "and you've seem my work, right? It's a bit grotesque, maybe eerie. Abstract. Ominous. Sometimes just odd. Like Tim Burton. His work was my inspiration, at first," you smiled, and he chuckled lightly in reply.

"Well, maybe political cartoons? You know, parodying this day and age. I get that your work wouldn't be appreciated till you're dead, so… you could try that. Or, if not, maybe there's something else you've wanted to try? _Perhaps~_… what about that investigation stuff you were talking about, before?"

"Criminal justice? Yeah. I-I wanted to do something in that field… but how can I? Scotland Yard hasn't even been a thing for a long period of time, and to have women as investigators? I'm not sure if that'd work –"

"Yes, but **that** is what your family used to do, right? And then everything changed and… well, you're a pretty good spy when you want to be. Or an assassin," he smirked slyly, and you chuckled as you rubbed the back of your neck.

"True, true… I guess there is some stuff I could try, huh," you decided to say, and you smiled lightly as he patted the top of your shoulder before sitting back on the casket he was propped upon.

"Exactly. Your life isn't hopeless, Lara. Don't think that way. Be positive. Becoming depressed is what causes humans to become grim reapers… and even though you're a very good one, I don't want to see you reanimated into a reaper. Okay?"

"No guarantees," you chuckled, causing the man to pout, but, well, Michael was right. You don't have to accept the norms. Besides, if worse comes to worse, you could always start dressing up like a guy and pretending you're a proper gentleman. It's really not that hard, after reading a few books about manners and customs… Yeah, you still don't like your 'role' in this society, but that doesn't mean you have to stick to their ideals, all the time.

Plus, you shouldn't have to worry about being accused as a witch and being burnt at a stake… So there's that to look forward to.

But as you thought, before you began to ask Michael another question, you heard the door open, the door bell dinging as it was opened and closed, and you turned to widen your eyes slightly, before your gaze dulled a little and you stood to your feet, giving the two who walked in a light smile. "Ah. Earl Phantomhive," you began, getting your companion's attention as you continued, "if you wish to talk to the Undertaker I can go get him for you."

"No need to rush. I didn't realize you had company over," he began, glancing to your reaper friend, eyeing his clothes, but before you could respond Michael stood up, smoothing out his suit, before giving you a light smile.

"It seems we've been chatting for too long –"

"You don't have to do, you dang –"

"And if I'm gone for too long, I'll have to explain myself. So, Clara, perhaps I'll see you at a later date," he smiled, pushing up the glasses that were on his face just a tad higher, and you sighed, wishing you could just give him a hug, but you know that'd be seen as 'suspicious' if you did.

So, you simply smiled in response.

"You better come back. Within the month. **Michael**."

"Yes, I will. Sirs," he finished, giving the two humans a slight nod, before leaving out the front door as you rolled your eyes slightly, turning towards the hallway, that was hidden behind a fairly large coffin.

"I'll be right back," you stated before Vincent could respond, but you just barely moved around the coffin, stepping into the fairly dark hallway, only to feel a hand upon your shoulder, turning you and pushing you back out into the parlor room. "H-hey! –"

"_Aaaah~!_ Dear earl. I had a feeling you'd be showing up today," Undertaker smirked, but before you could disappear he grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to stay put. "_Now~_, why don't you stick around, my little assistant?" he whispered against your ear, so low you doubt anyone heard, but you narrowed your eyes in irritation.

"… You better tell me what you overheard from my pervious conversation with Michael," you stated, bluntly, shoving his hand away with your shoulder, but you replaced your irritation with a smile, only for Vincent and his main butler to glance at the two of you with a curious gaze.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You weren't surprised to hear that Vincent was here about the recent guests the mortuary had received… this morning… which was why Undertaker had been gone all day while you attended to the everyday business the front part of the store had to endure. Two bodies had been picked up, a funeral arrangement, and luckily said funeral was in three days. So, it wasn't too difficult.

Still, you sat there, propped up on Undertaker's desk as you listened to the two males talk, with an irritable and exhausted look on your face. Every single time you tried to make an excuse to leave, Undertaker stopped you. Saying, it wasn't necessary, or perhaps, that can be done later. Every single time! Hell, even Vincent was catching on that something was up.

And honestly, even you don't know what's gotten into the man! You're **this** close to tackling him to the floor and beating the crap out of him!

Giaaaaighghghgh! –

"Lady Clara," you heard a voice, your glaring eyes blinking for a few moments, as you let out a shaky breath to calm yourself as you turned to the Phantomhive butler.

"Tanaka-sensei. Is something the matter?" you asked in a curious tone, noticing that the two men must have disappeared down the hallway, towards the basement, you're assuming, and you let out a tired sigh once you realized that you missed that.

"I could ask you the same question," he responded, his graying wisps of hair bouncing on top of his head slightly as he calmly took a seat on a nearby casket, keeping his brown eyes on your person as he watched your reactions with a calculative gaze. "… Pardon my intrusion, but are you having a quarrel with the Undertaker?" he asked, and you gave him a slightly glare before glancing away, scoffing underneath your breath at the question.

"_**Maybe~**_… depends on how he answers my questions," you spat out in disgust, causing the man to raise a curious eyebrow from behind his monocle, and you looked over at him before managing to give him a slight smile, though it wasn't a very convincing smile. More like a grimacing line on your face. "… Say, Tanaka-sensei," you began, pausing for a moment before sighing to yourself, scratching behind your head as you continued, "I know this may be a personal question, but… if you were given a chance to leave the Phantomhive household and do something on your own, like maybe follow your dreams, would you do it?" you asked, causing him to give you a curious look, but you kept a rather serious, but tired look on your face, waiting for a response.

He smiled lightly in reply. "No. Not because I have no dreams, but I enjoy my life as a Phantomhive butler. But, every story is different. Why? Do you dislike your time here with the Undertaker?" he asked in a curious tone, but you shrugged your shoulders in response.

"… I mean… I thought I did, but… I'm starting to wonder if I want to stay, or if I'm just staying because it's been convenient for me… Don't get me wrong. I owe Undertaker. I would be dead if he hadn't been there, but… I-I don't know. I honestly don't know," you responded, your face glancing away from his as he smiled lightly in response, thinking over your words.

"… Do you hate the Lord Undertaker?" Tanaka asked you, and you glanced over at him and let out a slight scoff.

"Of course not. He's a good man. Gentleman. Whatever. I know what others think about him. That he's an oddball and probably hired me because I'm a whore or something… but that's not the case," you stated, simply, pondering your words before sighing deeply to yourself. "… He's a kind man. Lonely, but kind. A-and I do enjoy my time here, but… sometimes I wonder if I should be doing something different."

"… If I may interject," he began, causing you to look over at him as he continued promptly, "at least in my case, if you enjoy what you are doing and do not see yourself as doing anything else, perhaps you should continue to do what you do. Regardless if you fully enjoy the task or not. However, you are a smart woman. I am sure you will come up with your own solution to your problems, on your own," he stated, and you gave him a light smile in response.

"Hmm… maybe you're right," you agreed in a soft, yet tired voice, but your heads turned as you heard rustling, and soon Vincent and Undertaker came back into the parlor room, an exhausted look on Vincent's face and a light grin on Undertaker's. "Something the matter?" you decided to ask, and Vincent let out a tired sigh.

"It's just the case I'm dealing with. Nothing to worry yourself over, Lady Clara –"

"I may be a woman, but if you're trying to find a solution I can be useful. It's not like I haven't done enough therapy sessions today, anyways," you scoffed to yourself, but when you realized Vincent probably didn't know what a 'therapy session' actually is, you simply stood to your feet and calmly crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the desk. "Then, what's the problem, exactly?"

"We're having a difficult time drawing out the killer," Vincent began, but when he noticed a look Undertaker was giving him, he closed his mouth for a moment before giving you a light smile. "However, I'm sure we'll solve this case for the Queen very soon. In the meantime, Lady Clara, I have something for you," Vincent smiled happily, suddenly handing you a sealed envelope before gently grasping your hand and giving your hand a light kiss on the top. "My lovely lady Rachel would like to invite you and the Undertaker, if he wishes, to the Phantomhive manor. I understand your job is quite busy, but ever since she learned that you are Undertaker's assistant, she's been excited to meet you.

"And, considering Undertaker makes up excuses to not arrive to the mansion, I formally extend the invitation to yourself," he smiled sweetly, casting Undertaker a rather sinister, devious smirk before looking back to you with a tender smile adorning his gentle features. "It won't be anything fancy. Just a little brunch or lunch, or perhaps dinner if you wish to come by the afternoon. A house visit, and you do not have to stay long, if you do not wish to. Plus, the family would like to see you again, Undertaker," he continued, but before Undertaker could respond you let a slight scoff leave your breath as you flipped the envelope in your hand, pointing it towards the Undertaker.

"I won't be going if you don't, Undertaker. I'd just like to make that clear," you responded, before turning to Vincent and giving him a light smile in return. "Thank you for the invitation. Hopefully I can hold you up on your offer."

"Of course," he grinned, giving the two of you slight bow. "Now, I am sure you morticians have work to do. I won't delay you for much longer. Have a pleasant evening."

"And you as well, Vincent," you smiled, and you could hear Undertaker say a quick 'goodbye' while you let the two men out the front door, only to have Undertaker move you slightly to the side, flipping the sign from 'open' to 'close'. "… What's gotten into you?" you scoffed, but before he could move away you quickly grabbed his sleeve. "Hey! Listen to me, damn it! Tell me what's wrong,** you reaper**," you growled lowly, your snarl only growing as he refused to look at you, and eventually you let his sleeve go. "Fine! Be that way! I don't get why you're acting like an ass, but hell, I don't want the silent treatment here. At least say something!" you huffed, pausing for a moment and waiting for an answer, before shaking your head and leaving the parlor room.

You were tired. Your day suddenly felt extremely long, and you just needed to sit down.

You trudged down the hallway, up the stairs, and grumbled underneath your breath in irritation as you turned the stove back on, lighting the burner before setting the pot roast back into place. You paused, your eyes glaring harshly at the lukewarm meat, before you turned away, walking into the living room, and plopping yourself back down on the couch.

As if nothing happened.

Nothing was wrong…

But everything is wrong, damn it! Everything!


	15. The Impending Dilemmas 3

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Once again, another chapter has been posted!**

**Firstly, I would like say THANK YOU to those who are following and liking my story, so far. Especially **HoloObsession, Gisolei, MegaVine**, and **HimeGee17**. Usually, I don't do thank yous like this, but since I'm on chapter 15, and I've had my story posted for a while now, I decided to give a quick thank you.**

**Secondly, there is an Undertaker POV in this chapter. And a bit of arguing/fighting… but it doesn't last forever. **

**Soon, we'll be going to the Phantomhive manor, so get ready! I figured the mansion would be a ways away from London, considering it takes Ciel and Sebastian a while to get from the mansion to the city of London, in the anime/manga. During the Jack the Ripper arc. That's the best reference, since you can see the sky change in the anime, and it corresponds to the manga, at least at the beginning half of the season 1. So… not all day, but it'd take time. They're at least a couple of hours away, if they need a townhouse and the 'land' the Earl of Phantomhive owns looks extensive. Look to the recent flashbacks with the twins and Vincent to notice that. Also, I'm going to guess maybe the Midfords are further from London… maybe close to the Phantomhives, in terms of distance, but maybe further away from London. That's why Lizzy goes to the Phantomhive manor, then drags Ciel to London. I think there's a scene in the manga where she does that, before the Ship arc? **

**Well, anyways, enough explaining. I may add one more chapter before I call it quits for the day. A bit of closure for the mess this chapter is going to be… Once again, I'm writing this to let out some angst, as well as create a story. I'm still not sure if Clara is a cause of a recreation of the world, where the ending is different, or if the outcome ends up the same… but we'll see. I've noticed this story is getting lengthier and lengthier… and hopefully I can keep up with this story for a while. I-I don't know. When I reach about chapter 40ish, I tend to lose interest. Hopefully, that doesn't happen. I am liking this story, and there is a clear ending, to me. I just have to reach that end.**

**Maybe I should have a part two? But I tried that with another story… and that didn't exactly work out. Not that many people would read that second parter. That's why I haven't thought/discussed about doing that, until now. Maybe? But I'll have to say no? But the possibility of me losing interest rises when I see how many chapters I've written… It's a vicious cycle.**

**I'm more of a novel writer then a short story writer, anyways. I just suck at actually reaching the end.**

**Okay, I'm done ranting. I hope you guys are ENJOYING this story, so far. And, if you have any suggestions or 'scenes' you'd like to see, or moments with particular characters you want to see, then leave a COMMENT! I wouldn't mind adding in your suggestions, if I think it can add to the story… but yeah. I'll end this here. SEE Y'AH!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Watching my little assistant storm out of the room left me… a tad numb.

But mainly frustrated.

What did that little reaper think he was doing, coming in here and attempting to persuade my newly found assistant to leave. The nerve!

I couldn't talk to Clara, but the angry look was… nostalgic, but not in a good way. Recalling all the wrong I had done in the past, I quickly realized I needed to apologize, fast. At the very least, make things up to the poor girl.

But…

As I finally crept up the stairs, seeing the girl slumped on the couch, newly acquired sketchbook in hands, looking more frustrated then she did content and peaceful, I felt terrible.

Absolutely terrible.

But she didn't turn to acknowledge my presence. Glance to even notice that I was there or not. Instead, she crumbled up a piece of paper and threw it across the room, before flipping to the next page and roughly scribbling, again. Sure, I was curious. I'm always intrigued by the new little things the girl does, but the anger radiating out of her was…

Well, I suppose I'll do the smart thing and check on dinner, first.

I don't know how much time passed as I pretended to be working, before becoming fed up with myself and making some tea, pouring two cups, before calmly making my way to the living room… Only to see the girl with her head in her hands, her knees up to her chest, and… crying?

Was she crying?

"Oh dear," I mumbled, unsure how I should react to this.

But before I could wrap my arms around the girl, she slapped my hands away, snarling like an angry wolf, and glaring at me with dark, harsh blue eyes, which I swore was glowing green. Green with hate. Green… because she's a half reaper.

Of course.

Slowly I set the tea down, sitting down on the other side of the couch as I thought over what to say. If I should say anything… Yes, I'm going to have to talk. No matter how much I'd rather keep quiet. "… I heard most of the conversation you had with that boy. I would have walked into the parlor room to greet him, but he seemed more inclined to talk with you," I decided to begin, pausing, waiting… only to hear nothing. Just heavy, slightly rough breathing. "… Are you mad I didn't show my presence?"

"What I'm mad about," she began, her head lifting just slightly to glare over her knees, directed right at me, "is… that you overheard so much. That, you could have just said you were there and I would have introduced you. In fact, maybe I'm just mad that you think I **wouldn't** be mad that you were hiding. I don't know! I'm just mad, 'kay!" she yelled, but before she spoke another word, or I could respond as calmly as I could, she began to cry.

Again.

And cough, roughly.

"My lady, you need to calm down –"

"Shut up! Just, shut up! Don't fuckin call me a damn lady! You know nothing! –" but she covered her mouth with her hands, her legs slipping down from their bent position as she began to move rather sporadically.

Seeing the blood, spitting out of her mouth, I quickly rushed to her side. Anger be damned. She tried to shove me away, but I absolutely refused, taking the girl into my arms and shifting her on the couch, like a life sized doll, sitting her upright and holding my handkerchief to her lips. She took the clothe, coating it in her blood, and… I sat there.

Unsure.

This must be how boy Vincent feels whenever his lady love starts to cough in a similar manner.

Helpless.

Absolutely helpless.

But, I watched as she reached into one of her pockets, pulling out that plastic inhaler she was talking about, earlier, shaking the item, before popping open the lid and bringing the opened chamber to her blood coated lips. She inhaled, exhaled shakily, before inhaling again and pressing her finger on the top, and I could hear air hissing through the inhaler.

I paused, waiting patiently, but anxiously, as she continued to breathe heavily, repeating the process another time before handing me the inhaler as she laid back into the couch, closing her eyes and coughing lightly to herself. "… I'm sorry, Clara," I decided to speak, hoping my words were enough to prompt a response.

But all I heard was heavy breathing, her hand pressing against her chest as she tried to calm her shaky breathes for air.

"… You started talking about those reapers. Children, creatures you once knew. About your frustrations, the council… how you do not feel that you're doing what you desire," I decided to say, hoping my words were reaching the girl's ears as I gently took the hand that held my handkerchief, holding back the tears that desperately wanted to leave my eyes, but no. I will not cry over something like this.

No.

"You do not need to feel like I'm holding you back, Clara. You can leave. I will not stop you… I will even give you the traveling money to do so. You have paid me so much in laughter and company… the least I can do is –"

"Un… U-undertaker, just… just slow down," she sighed, coughing a bit, but not as roughly as she had been earlier, before she slowly brought her arm away from her face, her hand still on her chest as she began to look at me with an exhausted look adorning her face. "Who-oever said… I'm leaving?"

"You did, when you told that boy –"

"Y-you misunderstand," she stated, attempting to smile. I couldn't stop myself from smiling as well, but I felt weak. Emotionally drained. "I'm just… t-thinking. About e-every… thing. I didn't say I was… leaving," she sighed to herself, but I couldn't stop myself from looking at her, confused.

Surely that's what the girl meant. When she kept asking all those questions. About dreams and feeling unsatisfied.

Was it me? Did I do something wrong?

Maybe I shouldn't have… begun to enjoy this little arrangement. I shouldn't have assumed she was staying. Besides, she's right, humans die. They die… and there's nothing I can do to change that.

I assume…

"Though… here's the thing," she continued, causing my thoughts to pause as her eyes began to wander, her body moving as she groaned, sitting up in the couch and sighing exhaustingly to herself. "If we're going to continue this boss and assistant thing we have going… I need two questions answered, and if you cannot answer them honestly… I'm leaving," she stated, my breath momentarily hitching at her words.

Her tone, her seriousness… I hated it. Hated it all, but understood that the girl isn't exactly happy.

For some strange reason.

"My questions are… Why or how are you associated with the Phantomhives? Like, why does a reaper like yourself feel attached to my family? And don't say a good laugh… and, second, be honest, why did you leave the association? Don't say you retired, because even I know you could have done a multitude of other things if that were the case," she stated, her questions causing me to look her over and my eyes glazed over, but just slightly.

But what surprised me was when I felt a hand upon my cheek, suddenly swiping upward and brushing away most of my silver bangs, and I blink, confused…

Until I saw her eyes staring intently at mine. In that same way she stared at that boy, a moment ago.

Like… she was analyzing me…

Or… rather, she was reading my very soul. Looking for flaws…

Huh. Well, if I lie, she'll know. But…

Should I really tell her the truth? Because… she could still leave me… and then she'd know the horrible truth.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Your questions caused the Undertaker to stop talking. To sit there, staring at you, rather blankly, and you caused him to freeze the moment you swiped his bangs to the side. But, you don't care. You were determined. You needed to know.

Why he's paired with the Phantomhives, though you have never seen him or heard about him before. Why he left the reapers and won't go back to them. You just… need some honesty. Because…

He heard so much about you! About the past, your friends, your old life. That's all supposed to be a secret! How can you go forward if he holds most of your secrets, while you have nothing on him? This is starting to feel one sided and you hate it. Hate yourself for disclosing so much.

But more importantly, you're starting to feel a bit of self loathing, and obviously, your sour and exhausted mood is rubbing off on the Undertaker. He's like the complete opposite of the sorts of reapers you've had to deal with, and… it's nice. Refreshing, sure. You didn't have to try too hard and be yourself, but…

That's just the thing. You're not having to try hard. Life feels too easy. You need something exciting to keep you going, or at the very least a goal. Sitting around, doing nothing is bothering you. Making you feel antsy. And that just leads to too many thoughts, swimming around in your mind.

Terrible, terrible thoughts that can lead to horrible outcomes… for all parties involved.

"… To answer your latter question," he began, somberly, his eyes trying to avoid your own, but you narrowed your gaze, keeping your hands on his cheeks, determined to keep him from wandering away from your sights. "I was… fed up with the association, as you seemed to put it. The council, the higher ups… harvesting souls, that sort of thing. I was a bit of a troublemaker, back in my youth," he chuckled dryly, noticing you were barely phased by his giggles, "but… it reached a boiling point, one night… On my first attempt to escape," he continued, reaching for his scarred eye as you slowly began to back away, putting your hands upon your knees as you narrowed your gaze, barely giving him any sort of expression to register your thoughts as he spoke, "I was cut and bruised rather terribly. I was healed, but forced to do overtime… But my second attempt was a successful escape.

"That's why I hesitate to return. I'm sure those reapers are starting to catch on to where I am, but… Who knows what'll happen if I return. Praise, perhaps, because I was good at the craft, but that doesn't mean I enjoy reaping souls. That wasn't what I signed up for when I committed suicide," he told you, watching you carefully as you continued to stare and glare. He began to stare at you concerned. "… Lady Clara? Can you please say something?"

"… No one signs up to harvest souls, when they commit suicide. I get that," you responded, softly, slowly bringing your hand up to your face and brushing away a tear. You weren't quite sure if you were sad over his words or still angry, but… well, "but you could have just told me you couldn't give me the information I wanted. Don't you know how sad I was? How distort over the promises I ended up breaking, by being thrown back in time?... It hurts that you can't trust me, yet I say so much," you finished with a soft mumble, your hand reaching for your right eye. Sure, it still hurts. The pain of being clawed at by a demon, an essence of everything terrible in this existence, is painful, but… nothing hurts as much as your chest does.

But you flinched as you felt a finger upon your cheek, and a long black nail brushing a stray tear away. You gave him an unsure look, but you continued to stare, unsure of what you should say in response. "… Why do you care, then, about some humans? Reapers are supposed to emotionally detach themselves from humans. Forget about that emotional part of themselves. That's why… w-why… **how** can you care?" you decided to say, but you naturally flinched in response as you felt his finger on your chin, tilting your head upward to stare up into his gaze.

That… gaze…

Strangely hypnotic. You try to pretend that you cannot be phased, but… even you cannot pull your gaze away from Death itself.

Noticing that your eyes were starting to glaze over, as if you were falling into a strange trance, he abruptly took his hand away from you, almost making your head fall forward, and you flinched, rubbing your sore head and rubbing at your eyes. Damn, that hurt! Not physically, but your brain feels a bit jumbled up after that –

"_The Phantomhives~_… Oh, at first, I didn't much care for them. Sure, I'd get to watch their little shows from afar as they killed various people, for one reason or another, but I never felt… content. It was entertainment," he began, shifting away from you as he sat a bit more slumped into the couch. "The fact that your… family would force yourselves to become subservient to a monarchy that, mind you, sometimes did the wrong things, and you simply cleaned up and disposed of their messes…

"Considering each child seemed to hold some type of intelligence, I found it hard to comprehend. In fact, I kind of despised the mere idea of loyalty and nobility, considering it all a social ploy to keep the subjects in line… Regardless if you deserve their favors or not.

"It wasn't until I left the Dispatch and was on the run that I began to realize why," he decided to say, slowly taking your hands and placing them into his own. You watched as he rubbed the top of your hands with his thumbs, but he looked deep in thought. Reliving a past that, perhaps, he was never going to look back upon, but now that you've asked he had no other choice. "… I became close to the Phantomhives because of Countess Claudia, third born and the youngest, only girl, but in a silly twist of fate, her entire family was killed. Except for some distant relatives, an aunt and uncle that lived in Wales. She spent her childhood years there, before taking the position her father once held.

"She had such… a grace to her. I suppose that's the best way to describe it," he chuckled lowly to himself as he remembered the past, tilting his head slightly as he continued to rub your hands, stretching out your hands slightly as he rubbed his thumbs against your knuckles, noticing the callus… the blemishes. Everything that made your hands seem… broken. Bruised. "She came to my shop, one day, and at the time I wasn't getting much business. Most of the guests went to other undertakers across London, and I simply got the forgotten ones. Deaths no one seemed to take any notice over…

"And that's why she stopped by. When I became curious and began to refuse her request, she pointed her royal seal in my face. As if it'd cause me to move," he snickered, pausing as he stared at your hands with such intensity, you wondered if something was wrong with your hands. Maybe you should be investing in hand cream, or something like that. "No, no, all I asked was for some laughter… and I giggled at the shocked look on her face! The entire time, strict and stern, only to break her composure for that one moment in time.

"It was euphoric. Terribly enjoyable. To finally see someone crack, oh my! I couldn't contain my excitement," he giggled happily to himself, and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling, slightly. Lightly. His giggles are contagious, after all, and even you cannot stop yourself from smiling, in return. "… After that, I gave her the information, as requested, and then she came by the next day… and three days after that… and that's why I'm an informant," he finished, but before he could drift away, you flipped your hands, reaching for his wrists, and suddenly you tugged him forward, slightly, getting his attention while you also became rather entranced by how your hands were intertwined with his.

How pale the man's hands are… and how boney… the long black nails seem to… suit him. While your own hands were pink, whitish pink and a tad pale, yours were so full of life, compared to his own fingers. Like a strange harmony between Death and Life. The dead and the living.

"Is Vincent your son?" you had to ask, not looking at his face to see his reaction, but you could tell by the slight tug on your own hands that you startled him.

But then he began to chuckle rather dryly. "As far as the boy knows, of course not. And his sister, no. Never… But now, I see my lady in almost every Phantomhive I see. The boy, his sister, and now… you," he scoffed to himself, and you could feel his grip on your hands tighten slightly as he frowned. "It hasn't even been fifteen years… Is this what you humans call heartache?" he decided to ask, but slowly you slipped your hands away from his own, only to lean forward and grab him in a tight hug.

You could tell he was startled. Probably shocked, but you didn't care. You sat there, leaning, hugging the man as you slumped your head into his shoulder, listening to your heavy breathing as you tried to keep yourself calm and collected, while he seemed to have lost his breath entirely. You didn't move until you could feel his arms wrap around you, slightly, giving you a hesitant hug in return, but then you began your tale. "So… my father, he told me the only reason why he gave a damn about procreating with my mother was because of my blood.

"My older brother… told me the reason was because… at some point, my blood mixed with that of a grim reaper's. So, in a way, I'm more death then I am living," you told him, pausing for a moment before sighing tiredly against his strangely warm shoulder. "My father was… is, I suppose, an ass. I hate him. You should never hate a father, but I hate mine… He left me to die. To be clawed at by devils and demons alike… a-and… I had to fight to stay alive. Then, he expected me to be his daughter… If my brother never showed up I-I don't think I could take it.

"I saw how hollow everything is. You have to suppress your emotions, yet you have them. You feel pain when you reap an innocent soul that had a lot to live for, anger that the guilty get to live on… I became… so angry, all the time. What kept me from committing suicide and simply giving up was two things: my anger and determination to prove to my father that I'm not some weak human girl, and… the realization that… if I did give into my urge to be with Death, another child would be born, forced to do the exact same things I do. The same things my brother did… It would be an endless cycle of pain and abuse.

"And… Claudia," you chuckled dryly to yourself, suddenly pulling yourself away from the man as you wiped away a tear; your need to see his reaction enough to make you look at him in the face, again. "This is… strangely ironic, if I'm being honest. Maybe I'm really meant to be here," you decided to say, and as you noticed the confused stare he was giving you, you simply smiled lightly in reply.

You reached for his large mortician top hat, slipping it off of his head, and you placed it onto the coffee table before turning back to look at him, smiling lightly at the uncertainty on his face. His confusion made you snicker in delight, and while your own happiness was a tad forced, you couldn't stop yourself. Seeing a reaper so dumbfounded was enjoyable, to say the least. "… What I'm going to say," you began, sighing as you began to compose yourself again and the smile began to leave your face, only leaving a thin, curled line in its wake, "it… isn't something I talk about, very often. In fact, I think only Michael and Rosie know about this. Everyone else…

"Would think I'm insane or psychotic. That I'm seeing things, but I assure you, it's quite the opposite," you sighed, tiredly, waiting for your words to set in before you looked up and gave him a weak smile.

"So… between the moment my mother died and after I was sent to an orphanage, demons snatched me away. Used me as a living, breathing blood bag. When I got to 'banging age', as one of them put it, they were going to use me as a sex toy, too," you spoke, pausing for a moment. You could tell the man was angry. No, wrathful. But as his eyes glowed, angerly, at nothing in particular, you grabbed the side of his face, forcing his gaze to return to you as you continued in a tired, weak tone. "Through all of that, I wanted to kill myself. End the misery and torment, but something in the back of my head kept telling me to fight this.

"Perhaps it was my subconscious. Maybe it was an imaginary friend I made up so I wouldn't completely lose it, but I named her Claudia," you stated, pausing, noticing the slightly shocked look on his face as you continued with a sad smile. "She was… like this older version I wanted to be. Poised, proper, very sassy, but mostly confident. I always believed she was my confident side," you chuckled dryly before you slowly sat back, exhausted, but you still wanted to finish your little story. "Anyways, she insisted that I called her 'lady' or Lady Claudia. That's kind of why I hate being called lady, all the time. It reminds me of her," you told him, letting your words sink in as you caught your breath, closing your eyes tightly at the memories.

You hated telling this story, but for a reaper, it's something you need to say. **Can** say. They can understand… humans would just think you've become psychotic. Crazy. That you need to be thrown into a mental institution. Considering most don't believe in demons… or don't want to believe demons exist.

"So," he spoke, his words causing your eyes to open as you gave him a curious look, "what happened?"

"Long story short, after a lot of pain and abuse, maybe more mental than physical, I got fed up. I got my hands on something sharp, began to stab at myself, trying to kill myself," you told him, waiting for a moment before continuing. "I was about… six? Seven? Anyways, as I was doing that, I stopped. I momentarily lost sight of what I was doing, what was happening, but when I came to… My captors laid dead at my feet, their blood all over me, and then I heard Claudia say:

"'Run.'

"I ran and ran. I had no idea where I was, but I ran… Somehow, I found in a graveyard, of all things, ended up talking to the inhabitants, and got myself transported to the human world, somehow. T-the memory is very fuzzy," you told him, "but the point is, I… woke up."

"… Woke up?" he questioned you, but you shrugged your shoulders in response.

"Before that moment, I was just a human girl, who attracted unwanted attention wherever she went. I was a walking curse that caused the death of my mother, caused more… creatures to come after me with the intent on eating me… and I was worthless. Nothing," you stated, before continuing with a cold, tired sigh. "But, after that, I felt time times stronger. More active, fit, confident… Somehow, all that pain and suffering woke that reaper side of myself I never thought existed. Never knew existed," you scoffed at the thought. "… And after that, Claudia continued to whisper into my ear, giving me advice on what to do and how to handle things. The wise voice in a sea of… confusion and uncertainty.

"Eventually, my father popped into the picture. Told me who he was, why he was here, that he wanted me… I was scared, wanted a place to belong, so I never questioned it until it was much older. Still… after I came to terms with everything, after he died, I-I… realized I was being used. Again," you sighed, your hand plopping onto your face as you rubbed your tired, sore face.

"The thing is… after I was thrown back in time, after I woke up here… the voices of the dead, that extra power boost… I-I… can't feel it anymore," you admitted, a bit hesitantly, but you admitted the truth. The truth you never wanted to say, but here you are, saying a secret you never wanted to tell another soul.

Again.

To him, of all creatures.

"Something… someone locked that part of me away… Maybe I did that, and I could tell Rosie noticed," you chuckled dryly. "That's why she wants me to be human. Live a human life. This is my chance to do just that… Let the dead rest. Let my mind be at peace… It's just, I-I don't know. I miss that part of myself. My reaper half. I had heightened abilities, could sense danger approaching… I could always tell when something was going to die, but I could never outright figure out how powerful a creature is. Just that they're around.

"That demons and devils are around. Angels exist. That the dead roam amongst the living, at times, if they cannot find their peace… And, well, I guess what I'm trying to say is… I don't know who I am, anymore," you told him, sadly, sighing deeply, once more, and you could feel your tears starting to drip out of your eyes, again. You're just so exhausted. "I-I don't know what you see in humans, Undertaker, but we're broken, fragile creatures that can break at any moment. I-I just… wish I could lie down in a hole and die," you told him, sniffling as you began to cry, again. This time, it was because of you. Because of your own weaknesses.

That you're just a weak, fragile human that can't do a damn thing right, anymore. "You must hate me," you mumbled lowly, sniffling as you wiped at your nose and your face, trying to stop yourself from crying, again. You didn't need another attack, but at this point you are just going to have to cry. "I… just take and take… I haven't given much back. I-I'm sorry –"

"Stop," he spoke, wrapping his arms around your body, tugging your body forward and forcing your figure to slump into his chest.

You didn't realize how broad his chest actually is… or how strangely muscular he is. Does the man work out? Or does his body take longer to age, perhaps?

"What is… amazing is how resilient the human soul can be, if they have just a little bit of hope," he began, his words confusing you slightly, but he continued, his hand beginning to stroke the top of your head. "Milady Claudia's hope was her own loyalty to the crown… that she was doing the right thing, even if it was painful, at times, enjoyable, at others. She was no fool. Sometimes she was offing a good man, other times a terrible one, but she did her duty. Her duty kept her grounded. Kept her from losing herself to the pain.

"To hear all this… I'm sorry," he responded, but you shook your head.

"None of this is your fault –"

"If I had never met Claudia, never ran away, never had children with her and mixed my blood with that of the humans, your bloodline would have never been picked…"

"… I wouldn't have been born, though," you told him, causing him to flinch in response. You could feel his muscles tighten, but you continued somberly, "so… **should** you apologize?

"Besides," you continued dryly, too exhausted to care about how your words and tone of voice sounded, anymore, but you wanted to say this, "if you could love, that just shows a reaper can have emotions… and that's just wonderful," you finished with a mumble, your head slumping comfortably against his clothes as you let your body relax.

You could feel his heart beating rapidly, thumping against his ribcage, even with the layers of scratchy clothes he was wearing. You could feel his arms lifting a bit higher, tugging your body forward a bit more so you were slumped a bit more comfortably against him, his own body relaxing, just a tad. Your tired, relieved sigh was enough to calm the man's nerves. You could sense that his soul was calm, for what felt like a long time.

"… I was just mad that you overheard things… That you'd want to throw me out. I just… am not sure what I want to do, anymore. That's all," you finished, finally, your eyes closing as you let in a deep breath.

You could smell his musky scent, with an interesting mix of sugar and sweetness. This was…

Nice.

And you weren't sure when you fell asleep, but you left your lips open, breathing in the air as you tried to keep yourself from fading away. This was… exhausting, both physically and emotionally, but…

Well… he knows the truth.

You wonder… what'll happen? Does he think you're crazy? W-what now?


	16. The Impending Dilemmas 4

A tired groan left your breath as you slowly gained consciousness… only to realize you were tugged into your bed, sheets keeping you warm, while you still wore the clothes you were wearing from yesterday. You blinked, a tad confused, until you realized what happened yesterday, and you put your head into your pillow and let a grumble leave your breath.

Right, right! You told Undertaker a lot more then you should have!

Damn it!

But… well, you blinked, lying in bed as you pondered everything. You should be angry, annoyed, perhaps embarrassed, but you were more curious over Undertaker's words. The fact that he was all scarred up because the association detained him, you're assuming. That he knew of Claudia… though, now that you think about it, maybe there's another 'Countess Claudia' or a 'Lady Claudia' you don't know about? Somewhere on your family tree? But you have this suspicion that it's the same Claudia.

Which makes you sigh.

Okay, sure. Not hearing the voices of the dead and damned is nice, but sometimes it feels… too quiet.

Yet, it didn't really matter, now did it? You got your answers questioned, now. So, what was the problem? Do you even have a problem? You'd rather dance around the truth then outright tell a lie, but now the man knows too much. Should you even trust him?

Considering he is that reaper ancestor of yours, though you wonder if there were many other creatures your family lineage may have procreated with, after all it'd explain a lot more, then… should you be mad about that? Or relieved that he's a distant relative?...

Why are you disappointed?

Maybe, you hoped that he was an actual friend. A good companion. Someone you enjoyed talking to, regardless of how weird he can get. The fact that he's a reaper didn't necessarily matter, but he's a lot different from the other reapers you've met. Heck, the people you've met. He's just so…

Different…

But you sighed to yourself. Why does every person you decide to stay with seem to have some connection to you? Maybe you should just get your own place, at this point.

Yet, you assume that women aren't supposed to be living alone, in this Victorian era… or they're seen as prostitutes. Hey, you wouldn't mind sleeping around, but you don't like the idea of being seen as a slut.

But your little asthma fit left you a bit drained. There was still work to be done, and hopefully Michael gave you some pills to help with your pain. Flora is really good about planning ahead, after all. You glanced towards a tiny little window, noticing it must still be nighttime outside. With a tired sigh you began to move around your room, first quickly changing out of your dirty clothes for a nightgown, and then slipping on some house shoes so your feet wouldn't get too cold or get splinters.

Calmly, you left your room, your head glancing around as you wondered where Undertaker went. You wandered back down the stairs, grabbing the duffle bag Michael gave you, and after glancing at a clock you sighed to yourself. '12:24'. Slightly past midnight.

Were you really that emotionally distort? You must have been holding in your emotions longer then you thought.

After grabbing your duffle bag, that letter Vincent handed to you, you settled in the living room. You lit a carrying candle, setting it down on the nearby end table, before leaning back into the couch and opening the letter. You smirked. You haven't seen the family seal in ages… It's kind of nice that **you're** not the one associated with that seal, anymore. Yeah, it's a shame you aren't, but then again you can become whoever you wish to be. You're not tied down by a name and a title, anymore.

… Right now.

'_Dear Lady Clara,_

'_It is our pleasure to cordially invite you and your boss, Lord Undertaker, to the Phantomhive mansion. I wish that you have been doing well and are enjoying your stay here in England. I hope to speak with you about your life in America and how you came to live in London. How you met the Undertaker. Etcetera. _

'_Our family enjoys Mr. Undertaker and his company, and we wish to meet the lady that happens to be living with him. I do not have much to say, but I hope you will join us at the mansion, sometime. Sadly, I am unable to visit London. I have two little ones at home, but they also wish to meet the young lady the Undertaker is with. My husband speaks fondly of his time at the funeral parlor._

'_Wish to see you soon,_

'_Countess Rachel Durless Phantomhive'_

You paused, staring at the letter, smiling lightly.

It's been a while since you got something like this… a text message, anything. You couldn't help but smirk to yourself before glancing at the envelope and noticing, happily, that there was a return address on the front.

Good.

Setting the letter aside, you put the duffle bag on the small wooden coffee table, opening the duffle bag to dump all the contents onto the table. You couldn't help but smile happily at what you saw.

Two extra inhalers, with four canisters just in case. "Sweet," you grinned, noticing another envelope as you took it out of the duffle bag, opening it with ease before reading the letter hastily written inside.

'_Seriously, I wish I could message you, but whatever._

'_The inhalers will last for the year. I will have Michael come by to give you some more, when it's time. _

'_We miss you. The group. Everyone wants to split up and leave. How troublesome._

'_I heard you work with dead things. Do you have any interesting bones I can look at? Cat skulls? Have you collected any new skulls?_

'_I found two cute little tarantulas and a gardener snake. They are so adorable! Maybe one day you can see them. Considering they're with me, they'll be around for a very long time._

'_Maybe we can hang out. I believe Jack the Ripper should be around London, around this time period. Perhaps we can watch the Jack in action. Or, you could show me the stores you enjoy. Are there any cafés, there?_

'_I miss talking to you. You enjoyed my quirkiness. _

'_Work has been slow. I've been developing my various hobbies. Hopefully the pills I created will be enough to help you sleep. They're a tad experimental, so tell me if they're good pain killers or not._

'_Loves and kisses,_

'_Flora Cooper'_

You rolled your eyes, smirking to yourself as you added her letter to the stack of papers, before continuing your search through the contents from the duffle bag. Of course the pills are experimental. She tends to like to try various things on you, harmful or otherwise. She should be glad you have a high tolerance for this sort of… stuff.

As long as it's not laced with arsenic, you should be alright.

For the most part.

Looking through the contents, you found a box full of tampons, which you assume the reapers actually have in their realm, a medicine container, with an ingredients label attached, and 'pain killers' written on the front in sharpie, as well as two pairs of long wooly, nice socks, a packet of underwear in your size, and three bras. Two sports bras and one wired bra.

You smiled.

You weren't expecting all of this… but this is certainly a nice surprise.

You were also given a couple of tee shirts with some sort of skull pattern on the front, in a feminine style, and a black leather jacket! Yes, you had been wearing one when you went to the realm earlier in the year, but it wasn't exactly real. An illusion, but this jacket was the real deal…

"Damn it," you mumbled, smiling to yourself as you set the clothing aside, before letting out a light giggle when you noticed you had been given a few bars of solid chocolate and a box of delicious looking black tea.

Once you were done, you placed everything away, except for the tea as you stood to your feet, placing it in the kitchen before grabbing everything. The duffle bag, letters, and lastly your closed sketchbook, before going back into your room and setting the items down on a drawer.

You paused, wondering for a moment if Undertaker was actually asleep. You know how these reapers are. Sometimes they're up for days on end, and others sleep at such irregular times throughout the day. Cautiously, you began to make your way back into the hallway, using the bathroom quickly, before resuming your curiosity as you stopped at Undertaker's door, gently opening the unlocked room. Normally, you just ignore his closed door. It's never locked, but you prefer to let people keep their privacy, but… your own nerves wanted to see the inside, for yourself, and you had to admit, you weren't disappointed.

Black, white, and grays encompassed the room, but it was warmly welcomed by the dark violet curtains, slightly opened, letting the moonlight creep into the room and illuminate the much brighter parts. A fairly nice dresser, a desk at the far end, and a large queen sized bed with fluffy looking sheets set to the side, on the other side of the closet, but the right side of the bed facing the decently large window. Probably the largest window in this entire building, even though it's small compared to most buildings.

But your eyes wandered to the lump underneath the sheets, long locks of silver hairs cascading like white water over black sheets, and you smirked in amusement at a human skull you noticed, set upon a night stand, before your eyes wandered back to the Undertaker. He wasn't breathing, but you know that's because reapers don't breathe when they are asleep.

Actually asleep.

Since he's seen you enough times asleep and unconscious, you decided to do the same, wondering if your movements were going to wake him up. Oddly enough, his chest never did start to move, his lungs not filling with air or his heart starting to beat against his chest, meaning he must be in a very deep sleep.

You smiled, slowly crouching down next to the bed, your back to the window, as you stared at his sleeping face.

He looked so… content. Not angry, sad, or tired. Happy or giggly. Just… content. Peaceful… tranquil.

He honestly did look like a corpse, with his scarred face, pale complexion, and long white hair. Even you cannot help but wonder if he's old… or his hair is naturally that color… but your fingers brushed his bangs, slightly, to the side as you clearly noticed that he didn't have eyebrows. A faint imprint of eyebrows, but nothing that told you what his real hair color was… Maybe it is silver.

That's a thing, right?

Which made you wonder, where did he come from? Did he always look this way? Maybe he's ten times older then you ever thought… or maybe he just knows a lot. Keeps his secrets to himself. You get that… but you wanted to know about the scars. Every single one of them. Scars always tell a story, a painful story, but stories nonetheless.

You blinked, closing your eyelids for a moment as you thought to yourself. This… well, this feeling… it's familiar, but you're not sure if you want to admit it, to yourself.

He frustrates you at times, but he can make you laugh, and laughter is something you constantly crave. You don't even have to try very hard! And, he never seems to hate you. Despise you. Look at you with disgust. After everything you've said… strangely enough he simply listens without any clear judgement. Without assuming that you're completely bonkers.

Are you actually happy about that?...

… Maybe you are.

Maybe that's why you stick around. You always feel like you're trying too hard, in any relationship you've had to deal with. Friends, family, even romantic partners. It's a lot of effort, on your part, to make them happy and reach a point where you're enjoying yourself.

But with Undertaker… it's so easy. Even your little burst of anger felt like nothing. He just… let it all go. He told you the truth, and you kind of did, as well. Sure, there are secrets, but…

Hearing a slight breath, you opened your eyes, watching as his own eyelids began to blink, his eyes and lungs working before his heart began to pump rapidly in his chest. You watched as his features turned from curiosity, slight content, into utter confusion. "… M-my lady?" he mumbled in response, your eyes looking over his face as you thought his words over.

It… sounded so different. But…

"It's Clara," you decided to say, feeling as if you needed to clarify **who** you are, and you watched with an intrigued stare as he blinked, his upper face scrunching together in slight confusion, before he let a light smile appear on his face.

"_Did you have a nightmare~?_" he grinned, acting playful.

But you watched with a smirk as he leaned back, confusion written all over his face, again, as you seemed unphased by his comment. "_Nooo~_… I was just… bored," you decided to say, though honestly you didn't know why you went into his room in the first place. Curiosity? A strange desire to? "… You're peaceful when you sleep," you admitted, causing the man to let a grin appear on his face as you blinked a couple of times. "… W-well… I'm sorry for intruding. I'll be leaving now –"

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he responded, letting out a yawn, and he slowly began to roll over in his bed, his movement waking his body up as you stood to your feet and began to back away from the bed. "… _Claaraaa~_. No need to leave."

"I'm not… doing anything sexual," you stated, causing the man to chuckle lowly in response.

"I wasn't inferring such a thing, _unless you wish~ to_."

"N-no," you mumbled, taking another step backward. "S-sorry. I just… I'll go back to bed now –"

"You sure?" he responded in a curious tone, his voice sounding a bit different, but familiar.

He watched with a curious gaze as your body moved on its own, walking over to his bed as you moved underneath the covers, and he giggled to himself as he rolled back over, plopping an arm over your shoulder, which you moved to your side. "… Unfair. Your sheets are warmer than mine."

"We can buy you better sheets tomorrow," he mumbled, sounding like he was teasing you, but all you could do in response is close your eyes, sighing lightly in reply.

"… Yeah. Let's just say I had a bad dream," you mumbled, and you smiled to yourself as you heard a slight chuckle against your head, but you let your body relax.

This just felt… right.

Oddly so, but this was strangely enjoyable.

Not weird. Just… nice.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: And… THERE WE GO!**

**Hey! This'll be the last chapter I post today. Four chapters in a row? I'm on a roll!**

**Nah. I just wanted to post some chapters before I continued on with writing the story. I may not post for a while… or it'll only be a day. Who knows. I have work, and then I'll be hanging out with a friend on Thurs, so we'll see.**

_**The beginnings of a blossoming relationship~**_**. At least, that's what I'm going for. Wrapping some stuff up before we move on in the plot/story. I am enjoying this. Honestly, I wasn't going to post this story… but now that I've been doing so, I am enjoying where this is going.**

**Though, I'm already close to reaching chapter 30, in my writing, and I still haven't moved very far in the plot. Hmm… oh well, I guess.**

**Anyways, I hope you guys are ENJOYING your day. Your week. If you're still in school, good luck! Just hang in there, because it'll be summer soon enough! **

**And I realized that I've been on this website for more then a decade… Wow. I'm fricken old.**

**Okay. Well I'll stop now. SEE YOU! ENJOY YOURSELVES!**


	17. The Impending Dilemmas 5

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Today, I'm in a good mood and had time to hang out with some friends, and since I don't have some terrible hangover or drank anything, I decided to review another chapter and post it! I may post more today… maybe not?... I'm not sure, yet. Haven't decided.**

**This'll be wrapping out this 'arc', if you want to call these first few chapters an arc. Considering I'm going to be changing the location of our protagonists, and it'll practically be ten-ish chapters before we're back at the mortuary, I figured I'll say that. **_**Don't worry~.**_** They'll return to the mortuary eventually, but for now the location will be changing… for a while.**

**I got tired of having them in this one location, so it's time to switch it up a bit!**

_**And~**_**… I think that's about it, at the moment. I'm drinking some delicious newly bought sakura cherry tea, so all is great with me! And whatever sickness I had… hopefully it's over, for a while. I'd hate to feel sick, again, but I may be having hay fever… so that sucks.**

**You guys ENJOY your upcoming weekend!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

I woke up, a tad confused.

The sweet smell of lavender and sweet blueberries filled my nostrils, causing me to breath in deeply and exhale in response…

Until I realized, my hand was draped over a warm lump in my bed, or at least I think this is my bed, and I slowly opened an eye to notice a face turned my way, breathing softly as her head laid tilted slightly on my other pillow.

I widened my eyes, trying to hold in my breathe, as to not disturb the sleeping beauty. I quickly glanced down, glad to notice that we were still in our clothes, but… when did this happen?

… I recall seeing Claudia by my face, illuminated by the moonlight… but surely that wasn't Clara, right? Well apparently, I was wrong.

And I held back the need to groan in absolute humiliation.

A gentleman doesn't let a lady sleep in his bed, like this. Not like this! What even is this human? Does she have no morals? Wouldn't she be afraid that I'd do something to her?

Not that I would. Not if she didn't want to, but still!

Even this felt like this was too much. No one simply jumped into bed with me. Not unless I intentionally seduced them. A quick one night stand before I moved on to my next assignment. It never lasts…

But why? Why does this minx seduce me, like this? This cannot be normal. Maybe she needs medications, or she has a metal problem…

But no. I cannot think that way.

Her smile, her laughter… it's contagious. She looks like a peaceful doll… no. Not even a doll. An angel. A perfect angel, sleeping contently in my bed…

But at some point, her eyes began to open, and she smiled, causing me to smile lightly, before I couldn't stop myself from frowning, slightly. "… Sorry. You're just warm. I couldn't resist," she stated, smiling sweetly.

But I could tell that was a lie.

No, there was another reason. Why?... I'm not quite sure, myself, but I decided to play along as I happily smiled back. "If you say so."

"… Hey, Undertaker," she began, catching my attention before I could let my thoughts wander to unrestrained areas, "I was wondering… do you actually want to go to the Phantomhive manor? O-or are we too busy too?... If you don't like social interactions, I understand."

"I don't mind seeing the little Phantomhives," I decided to say with a smirk. It's true, though. Family or not, I still enjoy their company. Though, the new countess is a bit too kind, but I can see why Vincent picked the poor girl. And dear Francis… such an independent mother, now. Time really does fly, doesn't it?...

But I'm not exactly thrilled about it. Watching the children grow up, and have children of their own. Poor Countess Claudia never did get to see those grandkids. The woman her son picked as his wife. The cute little Midford girl that looks and acts strangely like her, though a bit more preppy. Giggly, but I'm sure with age she'll be the perfect little Claudia clone.

Still… my eyes stared at the girl in my bed, lying there as if nothing was wrong. "… I feel like this is improper," I decided to say, pausing for a moment before continuing, "to have you in my bed, like this. Is this what women in your time do? Jump into bed with men whom they have no feelings for?"

I couldn't stop my amusement at the slightly shocked look on her face, followed by a light hearted giggle, her breath strangely alluring against my cold skin. "With friends. Or family. We have a thing called sleepovers, where you go to someone's house, as children, and sleep with them in sleeping bags. There's also 'hanging out', and if you get drunk, a good friend brings you home and lets you crash at their place," she smiled, but I could only understand about half of what she said. Apparently, my confused face was enough to make her sigh in response. "… I enjoy your warmth, okay? It's been a while since I cuddled up against another person… Sorry for being weird about it," she mumbled, glancing away, but I reached over for her face.

Her eyelids blinked, her gaze a tad confused, as I brought her face back in alignment with the pillow, her eyes staring into mine, before I smiled lightly. "Then, you've been in many relationships."

"You could say that," she scoffed underneath her breath, her snorting causing me to smirk in response, but she continued in a soft tone, "nothing too sexual, though. I've never slept with a guy before," she admitted, causing me to smirk.

"_No guys~? _Perhaps something else?" I grinned, snickering as she slapped me lightly in the arm. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to cause me to laugh a bit louder, causing the girl to huff in response.

"… _I'm not telling if you~ don't tell me_," she grinned, her mischievous grin rivaling my own, and I chuckled lowly to myself.

"_Is that a challenge~~?_" I snickered, but she simply smirked back in return, waiting in anticipation. "… Fine," I finally spoke, breaking whatever tension seemed to be lingering in the air. "_Ladies first~_"

"… Fine," she mumbled, her face glancing away once more, but this time I patiently waited. I could tell she likes to take her time, pondering her next move. It gives me time to look over the delicate features of her face, the sparkle in her strangely alluring human gaze, though seemingly overworldly, in its own right, and… the smile. That light smile she always keeps on her face… unless she's angry. Or sad. It takes a lot of effort for the girl to **not** be smiling, in one form or another.

"I've been in a romantic relationship with… several girls, and one guy," she responded, causing me to frown, slightly, but noticing my pouting she started to giggle to herself. "You go."

"Fine… about six women… and multitude of males, though that doesn't mean I cared much for them," I decided to say, causing the girl to frown, slightly, at my honesty.

"Why? Do you not care about romance?" she asked, but I simply smirked in response.

Of course I care. Maybe a bit more then I should, but… "The women, I can name. The males… they were just a fleeting moment. An itch that got scratched," I stated, though I could tell the girl was feeling uncomfortable.

But, of course, she let out a sigh, calming herself before she continued. "That's a shame."

"… What about you?" I decided to ask, and she smiled sadly in reply, causing my own smile to falter, just a tad.

"I had a childhood sweetheart. A human boy I grew up with. I ended up seeing him again, when I was an adult… but I let him go because… he doesn't need to be caught up in my problems," she told me, and I smiled meekly in reply, understanding such a position. Such a loss. "And the girls, well, it just happened. I've had sex, though. Just not with any guys," she admitted, causing my eyebrows, if I had any, to rise slightly, but I stayed silent and let the girl finish. "… One of them was thrown back in time, too, in fact… but I have a feeling I need to let her go, too. Or she let me go. I-I don't really know, at this point," she sighed tiredly to herself, but I couldn't help but frown at that new piece of information.

I'm not quite sure why I care, but the idea of the young dear loving another… well… makes me wonder why she's even in my bed, in the first place. If she didn't want to get closer to me, in some way.

"I am bi, though. Male, female, I don't actually care. I'm more interested in any emotional attraction… Bi means a person enjoys both men and women, by the way," she decided to say, and I chuckled lowly in response.

"I suppose that means I'm the same… bi, is it?"

"Bisexual… so, what about you?" she decided to ask, and I paused, unsure what I should say as she continued with a tired sigh, "How terrible was your love life, huh?"

"Terrible," I chuckled lowly to myself, but honestly, I didn't want to admit it. But… considering the conversations we've had, and the scare I had just yesterday, perhaps I shouldn't keep quiet.

She may start to hate me if I do it, too much.

"… The women… Came at different moments in my lifespan. The first one was a childhood friend, though I committed suicide before we truly got acquainted, and the other five… three were grim reapers and the other was… well, my Countess Claudia," I smiled, lightly, pausing for a moment before continuing, "and the males… I didn't care much for. It happened within the span of a week or two, at most. One after the other. I suppose you wouldn't understand –"

"A one night stand? I get it, but I'm probably just more emotionally attached then most. That's why I would never want to," she stated, simply, and I smiled meekly in reply. "… No need to be so sad, Undertaker."

"I'm not sad –"

"Then ashamed. Either way, I'm not mad about any of that. I was just curious," she smiled in such a sweet way that I couldn't stop myself, but smile back.

Still, this girl is just a human. Will age and die like the rest. I-I… shouldn't be growing so attached.

But the longer I stare into her eyes, I can see my dear Claudia staring back at me. Smiling just as widely, as brightly…

I-I'm not sure if I can stand all of this –

"Undertaker, so, ah, about the Phantomhives, when do you think we should head over? Maybe in July? We can plan ahead if we wait till then, right?" she asked in a thoughtful tone, and I chuckled to myself.

The way she jumps from one conversation to the next is strangely amusing. Maybe that's why I'm entranced by such a dearie? Because she reminds me of… well, me. My craziness. My inner insanity.

"July sounds delightful, my lady," I smiled, earning me another scoff and a 'I'm not a lady', comment, though I wonder why she picked such a month. I doubt she understands the 'social norms' of high society, let alone knowing it is the 'season', where nobles head into London just to socialize with one another.

In my opinion, it's a big waste of time, but humans tend to figure out elaborate ways to waste their own time. Their own short lifespans.

But then again, I'm not any better.

But as the girl shifted out of my bed, leaving with a lingering smile on her face, I couldn't help but wonder what her game actually is. As far as I understand, Phantomhives all play games. In one form or another. Is she toying with me?...

Or maybe she doesn't understand her own feelings?

Like a young adolescent child?

Well… she is one, isn't she? Yes, she is nineteen, but compared to a grim reaper… she'll be considered a child until she reaches the age of a hundred. So, in many ways, she is a child. Still.

But at least she's a happy child. No matter how terrible her life seemed to sound, she seems happy here… with me.

And that was enough to make me grin, slipping out of my bed and deciding to get this day started. It's a bit early, but why not? Who knows how long this girl will be around, anyways?

I will not think of the possibilities, but… it can happen so abruptly… and I don't want to lose her. Not this soon. This quickly.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"So… there's medicine in this?"

"Yes. You can try it out, but then I'll be out an inhaler canister," you chuckled lightly, a bit amused as you watched the Undertaker stare at the plastic contraption with keen interest. "… If it'll put your mind at ease, asthma, in my time, can be easily treatable. There's no cure, but at least there's an easy treatment. Sadly," you sighed, picking up your other inhaler and staring at the canister with a tired look on your face, "I can't exactly show this sort of stuff to the people in this era… and I have to get this made in the reaper realm.

"But as long as I don't stress myself out, I'm as right as rain," you chuckled, reaching for your inhaler in Undertaker's hands, and placing the plastic items back into your duffle bag. "… I kind of like this. I'm going to have to use this bag. It has a skull on it," you grinned before turning your attention back to Undertaker. "So, what's the plan for today? Do I have to dress up for a funeral?" you asked, and he sighed lightly in reply, smiling at your enthusiasm.

"Yes. The funeral of Baroness O'Conner, but you can stay here –"

"And miss a party? No way," you smirked, standing to your feet and sighing to yourself, "but that doesn't mean I like wearing that damn dress."

"_You could always wear my~ clothes_," he giggled, but you rolled your eyes, smirking at him as you made your way into your bedroom.

Unlike Undertaker, over the past few months you've accumulated various different types of clothes. Mrs. Hopkins was so sweet and nice, offering you new ideas and sketches every few weeks. But her daughter, Nina Hopkins, was a real riot. A true feminist, before feminism became a real thing. Now, you have two dresses with 'shorts' and rip away skirts, and two other pairs of clothes that were legit pants and shirts, but in a feminine design.

But you've learned to accept the fact you need to wear dresses and skirts all the time… even though you're still not a fan of the corset. Heck, if you can, you tend not to wear it in the first place. Even if it's a bit obvious when you're not wearing one. Not because it's too tight. They're not, but you don't like constricting your figure, like that. It's like wearing one of those stupid exercise belts around your waist, all the time, or a very tight bra. It honesty doesn't do much harm, but you know it won't be good for you, in the long run.

Whatever. Not like it matters too much, anyways.

Since Mrs. O'Conner was a noble, you had to wear something a tad nicer. Not that Undertaker actually cares, and you don't, but unlike a guy, a woman is judged a lot more harshly about their fashion then a man does. Either way, you had to wear the constricting corset, a lovely trimmed black and gray skirt, and black and gray upper top. Considering you're always amongst the dead, you always had to be 'mourning', but hey. You can dress in style, right?

Mrs. Hopkins truly is skilled in her craft.

After a few adjustments, and a brush to your hair, you tied your locks of hair up into a braided bun, before grabbing an accessory you know the Undertaker will enjoy. With a smirk, you clipped the tiny little top hat with a decently long black transparent veil onto your head, sticking it so the veil covered your right eye, your mostly covered part of your face, anyways.

You had Undertaker cut your hair, most days. It's not that you couldn't find a barber, but you didn't care about how your hair was cut. Just as long as your hair didn't grow out too long, you had your bangs adjusted, and you collected your hairs once it was over. Why? Well, for experiments, of course. But you know that last request would cause most to look at you with disgust, but hey. It's something you do. And in turn, you've got to trim Undertaker's bangs as well as his long hair, though he never really requests it.

Makes you wonder if you should trim his hairs or not, this week.

Letting your thoughts die away, you smirked to yourself, grabbing your fairly short delicate black gloves and slipping them onto your hands, placing the ends over your sleeves, before you made your way out of your bedroom into the kitchen, where you know Undertaker will be preparing a hearty breakfast. Of course, he was dressed in his mortician attire, from his long black robes to his long gray sash tied around his waist, and his prominent black top hat on top of his head. Though, your eyes turned to his belt, which looked rather expensive.

You've asked him about those before, and he simply told you they were mourning trinkets. Medallions, but he never did go into much detail about **what** they are –

"Gah! My little assistant, what are you wearing?!" you heard the Undertaker ask, a giggle leaving his breath as you snapped back into reality, and with a grin you poked the side of your pinned up tiny hat.

"_Like it~?_ It was Nina's idea. She found a tiny little black hat and dressed it up."

"Nina is?..."

"Nina Hopkins. Mrs. Hopkins' daughter. An up and coming seamstress, like her mother. She's a lot more inventive into trying new styles. That's kind of why I've been given more clothes then necessary," you chuckled triumphantly before proudly making your way into the kitchen, sniffing in the delicious smells that caused you to start to salivate, slightly. "_Smells delicious~_. What is it?"

"Eggs, bacon, and toast. Nothing too strange," he snickered, causing you to giggle lightly.

"_You sure~?_ Did you add something different?"

"Nope. Nothing much. Just some extra spices," he explained, glancing over and giving you a curious look before he smirked and went back to his task. "Care to set the table, my lady?"

"Sure," you responded automatically, walking about the room as you grabbed the necessary dishes and utensils, two white napkins to be used for your breakfast, and of course, a couple of placemats so the wooden table wouldn't become too dirty.

You couldn't help but notice, over the past few months, the way you've gone about your business has changed. Depending who wakes up first, usually Undertaker, the breakfast gets made, the table is set by the other, and the meals always seem a lot more… fancy. Tastier. As if there's some effort put into every single meal. Before, the food was bland. There wasn't much added, and heck. The most you'd ever do is heat up noodles and make mac and cheese, back in the future. Or eat ramen for weeks straight. Now, you have a strange set of recipes that you tweak every so often, when you get bored.

But the food is never dull. The company is always enjoyable. And… you cannot help but feel apricated for your efforts, content with this… living situation.

You sighed to yourself as you sat down at your spot at the table, but you were smiling lightly to yourself. Yes, you wouldn't trade this sort of life for another…

But then why do you feel so… lost? You're at peace now. Content with this life. So… why?

Isn't this life enough for you?


	18. Phantomhive Arc: The Grand Mansion 1

**A/N: HEY GUYS! So, I decided to look over one more chapter before bed. Figured I'll look this over before tomorrow, since I have some time to. **

**This is the beginning of a 'new arc', and if you don't figure it out by the end of this chapter… then you have my dearest sympathies.**

**Anyways, I hope you guys ENJOY this story, so far. I've been enjoying other people's stories in the Black Butler fandom… though I wish there was more. At least about Undertaker… or the reapers in general. Oh well. I get when a person has writer's block or stops writing their story entirely. Just stare at the buttload of stories I've begun, posted, but never finished… Honestly, I don't even know if I ever will get back to those stories. Coming up with new material is fun, for me. But, I thought about deleting them… but I don't think I will. Just in case there are people out there who like to reread fanfic stories.**

**Oh, and if anyone cares, I do have a question for you guys:**

**If I do write **_'lemons'_** into this story, would you guys enjoy that sort of stuff or not? Trust me, I'll be writing blood and gore. That's kind of my thing, once I get into it, but sex?... I can do it, and sometimes I'm in a mood to write smut, but I don't know. For me, it can be hard a times to get in a mood where everything just works. So, would you like it if I write some lemons into this story, and change the rating to a 'M', or just write some simple romance, without all that stuff? **

**I will have you know that sort of stuff won't be happening till past the 30****th**** chapter, but if you guys say **_'yes'_** now, then I'll start writing it. If not, then it may never happen… I don't know. It's just a thought I've had, for a while now, and it'd be a while till we get to all that smut, but I may enjoy writing it? But I would like your opinions cause I don't know if I could be offending someone or maybe they're a young reader… up to you guys.**

**Well, for the most part. It's still my decision, after all.**

**But I may go the route of slow romance, and while I wouldn't mind doing that… meh. It can get boring, fast, so some COMMENTS would be great.**

**Or not. Whatever. No one has actually commented on this story, but it may be because I keep posting chapters, without any real breaks. Anyways, I think that's just about what I wanted to say. I hope you guys ENJOY your weekend, and see you later!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You couldn't stop yourself as you sat on the edge of your seat, staring out the window as you watched the trees drift by as the carriage rolled along. All the while, you could hear Undertaker snickering at you, trying to contain his laughter, until you looked at him with bright, excited blue eyes. "I'm so excited!"

"I can tell, my lady," he giggled to himself, his hand up against his lips as he tried to stop himself from laughing, but you grinned in response and returned to your perch right by the window. "… You can settle down, my Clara. The Phantomhive mansion is the same as it's always been –"

"For you, maybe. For me, I only saw this place once, and it was in ruins. Sure I owned the land, but that doesn't mean I could live there. The pipes were messed up, no running water, and only two bedrooms. How could I **not** be excited?" you grinned over at him before you turned back to the window, watching the scenery go by as the driver rode the carriage through the countryside.

Only one and a half hours away by car, but more then three hours away from London, by carriage. No wonder your family had a townhouse in London that your mother sold, for some easy money, but the manor has always been in the family. Always. Perhaps it was sentimental… maybe just an ideal plot of land… honestly, you don't know why. You just know that it was a terrible dump the first and last time you saw it.

Like when you found that plot of land your uncle had owned in the Rocky Mountains, only to learn it was an old miner's strip of land and had no real value. It was an interesting discovery, but that doesn't mean you'd ever live here.

Ever.

"So… what happened, then?" you heard Undertaker ask as you gave you a curious look, but he simply grinned at you, apparently having calmed down from his laughing fit, but as you looked back to the window he sighed lightly to himself. "I'm simply curious, child."

"_Curiosity killed the cat~_" you told him with a light snicker, before your snickering died down and you sighed lightly, to yourself. "… Telling you would reveal a lot of history… and I don't think I should do that. I wouldn't want to change worldwide events," you decided to say, causing the man to pause, before he smirked and leaned against the side of the carriage, looking at you with an intent gaze behind his silver bangs.

"_Well~_… if I promise not to try to change said events, will you tell me?" he began, your head glancing over at him, before you turned away and shrugged your shoulders.

"I'll agree, only if you tell me one thing," you began, but before he could ask you pointed to his belt, "those medallions you keep around your waist. I've been wondering, what are they?"

Noticing the confused look on your face, he simply smirked, knowing to himself that this conversation will not die down until the two of you made it to the mansion. "These, my dear," he began, unclipping his belt in a casual manner and gently caressing the shimmery items through his fingers, "are called mourning jewelry."

"… What makes them mournful?" you responded, causing the man to snicker at you, but you simply gave him a confused look, leaning forward in your seat, but this time towards the jewelry instead of gazing out the window.

"A person takes a piece of their deceased loved one, a strand of hair or perhaps clothing, or even pieces of their ashes, and makes jewelry out of them… Do you not know of this practice?" he questioned you, but you shrugged your shoulders before suddenly standing out of your seat, only to sit right next to him to get a closer look at his jewelry.

Which startled him at your swiftness, but other then that he tried not to show his cautiousness.

"So, like, when people take pieces of clothe or bone from a saint? Kind of like that?" you asked, causing the man to smirk deviously at your question.

"You could say that."

"Hmm… I mean, I think I get the point. There are people in my time that kept their loved one's ashes, sometimes putting them into a ring or a tiny piece of jewelry, but after some point it was just too expensive to do, and there was an apocalypse, mind you. No one had time to do that," you explained, causing the man to sigh lightly to himself.

"Yes, very true –"

"But why does a mortician have jewelry? Did you make this?" you had to ask, your hands reaching up to touch the items, but you pouted as he moved his belt away from you, closer to his spot in the carriage as you huffed in response. "I-I won't damage it! I just want to touch."

"Yes… perhaps you wish to, but you shouldn't if you can read cinematic records," he stated, simply, causing you to pause for a moment before you began to pout at him.

"Did you steal memories from the Grand Library?" you had to ask, a suspicious gleam in your eyes as he glanced away and let a huff leave his breath.

"Why do you ask so many questions?" he scoffed, but you rolled your eyes, slumping back into your seat as you crossed your arms over your chest and let out an annoyed huff. The two of you sat that way for a while, Undertaker wishing that this carriage driver would move a bit faster, while you were honestly annoyed with his roundabout questions, until he sighed, breaking the simmering silence, before his gaze turned back to his jewelry, his finger running over one in particular. "… These are… beings that have passed on, and I wished to keep a part of them with me. These are my treasures," he stated, causing you to pause before you turned back to him and gave him a curious look.

"So… did you make these yourself?" you asked, again, this time causing the man to give you an intrigued look, before he smirked, chuckling to himself as he gazed at his jewelry with longing.

"Yes. Before mourning jewelry became fashionable amongst the humans. Before I left the association."

"… Oh. So, this is a hobby of yours? Jewelry making?" you asked once more, the man realizing this conversation was going off into a completely different direction then he assumed, and he gave you a keen smirk.

"_Yes~~_. At least, when it comes to jewelry such as this," he explained, sighing lightly while you gave him an intrigued look in return.

"Maybe you can make something for me?" you decided to say, calmly sitting back into the carriage seat as the man cast you a glance, before smirking and nodding his head to himself.

"Perhaps one day, child –"

"I mean, if you like making jewelry, I could tell you what I've seen with mourning jewelry. I think the coolest one I heard about is using ashes to create a diamond, and then making a ring out of it… but I don't think the equipment that exists in this day and age can actually do that. Maybe wait until the 20th century? Maybe by then the reapers will have something worthwhile," you decided to say before glancing back at him and giving him a curious look. "… No need to be so defensive. I was just wondering. I see you wear that belt around your waist all the time, and just now I realized that cannot be too normal."

"Pah! I suppose," he giggled to himself, pausing before sighing once more before turning to you and giving you a devious smirk. "_Sooo~_… about the mansion?"

"Oh. Right. I forgot," you honestly replied, causing another giggle to leave his breath, but slowly his laughter stopped as you jumped back over to your side of the carriage, sitting down contently into the padded seat before sighing to yourself, your gaze looking back out the window.

It took you a moment to process your thoughts, decide what was truly important to say and what wasn't, before you looked back to the Undertaker and gave him a light smile. "To put this into context, soon enough the world will erupt into wars, which the humans will call 'world wars'. It'll encompass all of Europe, parts of Africa and Asia, and the Americas… not so much, unless you count Cuba and the Untied States," you began, your eyes looking a tad tired as you thought over history, but you continued with a sigh leaving your breath. "So, during the 2nd world war, when things really got crazy, let's just say Germany had conquered a lot of territory, but were stopped by the Brits at the edge of France. So, the Germans were bombarding the Brits with bombs they drop down from the sky, with airplanes. I don't think you know what that is, but an airplane is a manmade metal contraption that can lift up into the air, and hold a bunch of people.

"But during that time, my family was already having mixed feelings with their position as the royal watchdog. Most of the time, they were not home. They were off in different countries, acting more like spies then they did as British citizens. They were getting tired, and the final straw was…

"During the German bombardments on British soil, a bomb struck very close to the mansion. Right smack dab on the soil that we owned. A third of the manor had blown up, and a few servants died in the process. The earl's mum, at the time, was visiting the family, but she died, and he lost his wife and one of his children. The rest had been in the basement, as they should have been. They had converted the wine cellar into a fallout shelter, of sorts, but I believe the story goes the wife was trying to bring the mother down into the basement? And then they were killed? Something like that," you told him with a shrug, before sighing to yourself.

"So, the Earl Phantomhive had enough. Right after the funerals, in the span of about five days, he relocated the rest of his family out of England, into America, and pretended to be refugees. It wasn't until my mother that they began to use the surname of Phantomhive, but for the longest time we called ourselves by different surnames… and after a while the name was forgotten," you told him, smiling meekly at the rather emotionless, but thoughtful look on Undertaker's face. "The only reason why we started using Phantomhive, again, was because of my uncle. He was more interested in the past then he ever was in the present… I enjoyed his visits," you mumbled lightly to yourself before your eyes went back out the window, and you sighed tiredly to yourself. "… _Any questions~?_" you asked in a playful tone, causing the man to cast you a curious glance before he smirked to himself.

"No… not really… but perhaps I'm glad you Phantomhives broke free from your duties," he began, causing you to give him an unsure look.

"… I-it wasn't like that –"

"Watching a group of delightful, but intelligent individuals fall upon hard times every moment of their lives… I don't understand how you humans can handle such abuse," he scoffed, and you raised an intrigued eyebrow at the irritation on his face, but slowly you scooted back over to where he sat, suddenly wrapping your arm around his own and slumping your head onto his shoulder, causing the man to glance down at you as you sighed tiredly to yourself.

"Call it a family curse, perhaps, but it's not like life became any better, Undertaker. Without the monarchy, we had to find our own reasons to keep living and moving forward. To have hope. To have a reason to keep fighting… Luckily, no Phantomhive ended up as a shinigami, but there were attempts at suicide. Depression. Betrayal. Life never was easy… but, we kept living, and that's all a human can really do in this world," you decided to say, before you closed your eyes and sighed once more to yourself.

Right. No queen or king could stop a perpetuating curse. Death always came knocking at your door, no matter how much a family member tries to avoid it. Even if there was a name change. Whoever held the ring, the position of 'head', always ended up with the curse…

That's why, there still is a Phantomhive ring. Why you still consider your family cursed. Even now. Even with you. Because… no matter how much good there can be in the world, there's always bad, and sadly, your family always ends up with the butt end. Always ends up with bad luck.

So, what's better? To fight or to give up? Because giving up only ends with more suffering… so why accept such a fate, if you can avoid it?

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"_W-wooow~_" you gasped, your face glued to the window while Undertaker smirked in amusement, one leg casually placed on top of the other as he watched your reactions.

Through the trees, past the steel gate that sealed off the estate from the rest of the world, up the hill the large mansion known as the Phantomhive manor, or mansion, whatever, slowly crept into view. With the entire building intact, to boot! The building was grander then you could possibly imagine. Perfectly symmetrical, from the outside. The bluish roof still intact, not old or in disrepair. The garden, just outside, was perfect. The various flowers were starting to bloom, which didn't help with your hay fever, but at least the sight is impressive. And the fountains… oh, the fountains are actually working!

Their water bill must be very high.

You waited in anticipation as the carriage finally came to a stop, the door opening, but before you could make a move to leave, Undertaker slipped out of the carriage, jumping to the ground and casting you a sly smirk, and you gave him an unimpressed glance while he held out his hand, giggling to himself as he began, "Welcome to the Phantomhive mansion, Lady Clara."

"Hmm… thanks, I suppose," you responded, letting the man help you out of the carriage and your shoes hit the brown stones, that were practically like cement, and while your gaze momentarily went to the carriage driver as he began to grab your bags, you couldn't stop yourself from staring up at the large two story building, impressed at the sight.

"Come my lady," you heard Undertaker say, politely offering you an arm, and a bit reluctantly, you took it, though your eyes weren't exactly on him and instead on the mansion as you walked closer.

"… This is more awesome then I can ever remember," you couldn't help but say, aloud, for his ears only, but then again it's not like you had any reason to be impressed, the first time around.

There were no butlers holding the doors for you, no one to welcome you into the mansion. It had just been you and your uncle, on the hunt for information. An investigation. Unlike now, the house had been in ruins. Water leaked from the ceiling, and you could feel the cold English air creeping into the building, making it ten times colder then it looked. Cobwebs, everywhere. Dust, everywhere.

But here, everything was pristine. The fancy pieces of art and sculptures were still in the fore. The gold trim was still intact, as perfect as ever.

Perfection. Absolute aristocratic perfection…

You shouldn't be this amazed, but you honestly were, and you didn't snap out of your awe until you heard the familiar noises of children at play, and barking, and you managed to slip your arm out of Undertaker's grasp the moment you looked down the hallway to notice a big black canine rushing its way towards the two of you. "Sebastian, stop!" you heard a child's voice cry out, before the dog practically ran right into the two of you, its front paws up on your dress as it barked expectedly at you.

You chuckled. "_Sebastian, is it~?_" you grinned, scratching the large dog behind his floppy ears, as you giggled while he began to pant, wagging his tail as you crouched down onto one knee, giggling as you scratched behind his ears and neck. "_Who's a good doggie~?_ You are! _Yes, you are~!_" you grinned, earning you a lick on your upper arm, and you chuckled as you turned your attention to the two much younger boys. "Is this pup yours?"

"Father's dog," the more confident of the two spoke, while the other stood behind his brother, gripping the back of his clothes, but looking at the two of you with a curious, hesitant gaze. "My name is Ciel! Ciel Phantomhive. And this is my brother!"

"… H-hi," he mumbled, causing his brother to glance behind him.

"Don't be scared! Sebastian likes her," the boy named Ciel stated, but you smiled lightly in response.

"The other one," the other twin stated, his gaze on Undertaker, and you gave the two boys a devious smirk at their hesitation.

"Yes. _He is a tall, dark, mysterious fellow~_. Wouldn't want to encounter him on a cold night," you chuckled, causing the two twins to suddenly whimper, but you stood to your feet, patting the dog as he barked and panted, expecting more pets and scratches, but you simply patted the top of the dog's head as you walked over to Undertaker and nudged his arm. "I thought you know these two."

"Supposedly, _dear uncle Undertaker~_ has been forgotten," he sighed, in a sad overdramatic tone of voice, putting a hand over his heart as if he's been wounded, but you scoffed, nudging him a bit harder in the shoulder in an attempt to jolt him out of his 'acting'. At least, you think it's acting.

"Don't be so melodramatic. _Anyways~_" you continued, deciding to give the curious looking twin boys a light smile, "it's a pleasure to meet the two Phantomhive twins I've heard so much about. My name is Clara Graves, but you may call me Lara," you smiled, though when you noticed Undertaker was snickering at you, you nudged him rather roughly in the side, causing him to let out a slight cough, but you smirked triumphantly at his discomfort before you motioned your hand to the man clad in black, "and this, my dear boys, is the Undertaker."

"**The** Undertaker?" the younger, or you're assuming the younger, of the two asked, eying the man with a critical stare while you smirked in response.

"Yes. **The** Undertaker. You must say the 'the'. It's part of the title," you grinned, only to laugh as he nudged you, much more playfully then what you've been doing, in the shoulder.

"No, dear boys. You do not have to say the 'the' –"

"Yes you do! If you don't, the Undertaker gets very, _very~ angry_ –"

"Gods, Clara, please don't."

"Okay, okay," you snickered, unable to stop the grin that played on your face at the irritated look the Undertaker was giving you, only for the man to smirk, and then snicker, at your own snickering.

Though, at some point, you felt the dog leaving your hand, instead wandering down the other hallway, towards something, or rather someone, while you felt a hand tugging at the side of your dress, and you looked to the two boys with a curious look. "Yes? Have a question for me?"

"Why are you here, miss? Are you here to see our father?" the seemingly shier boy asked, but the older one scoffed in response.

"Of course! I want to know, are you both staying here?" the older twin asked, giving his other brother a smile. "Right? Maybe she can play with us!"

"Can you?" the younger asked, and you could hear the Undertaker let out a sad sigh.

"_Oh~_. The boys prefer you over myself. _I am so~ sad~~_"

"_Maybe~_, if you weren't looking so dreary, you'd be approached more often," you stated, as if your opinion was obvious, but then you gave the boys a light smile. "Well, here's the thing," you began, suddenly crouching down onto one knee as you looked at the two boys, noticing they were looking at you with unsure gazes, but also intrigued gazes as you looked them both in the eyes. "We are invited to stay over, but for how long depends on your parents. I wouldn't mind playing, _but first~_" you continued, standing to your feet and giving the two of them a devious smirk, "you must come up with a game to play."

"Game?" you heard Ciel ask, and you nodded your head at his question that you know the other brother was going to ask, too, but didn't have the voice to say it.

"Yes. Game. I'll give you both the chance to come up with three games for us to play, and I'll say yes, within reason of course. A game of wits, indoors, or a game to play outside, whatever you wish. You two can pick, but you need to agree on three games."

"Three… I-I have an idea," the younger brother stated, but before he could continue the older brother threw up his hands.

"Wait! Let's talk in secret!" the older stated, his enthusiasm startling his other brother, but he grabbed his younger brother's hand before turning to you and giving you both an enthusiastic smile. "We'll be right back!"

"_Don't take long~_" you spoke while giving them both a wave, watching them rush down the hallway, though the younger and slightly smaller one, you noticed, seemed to be out of breath a lot sooner then the other, and then you slyly turned over to the Undertaker, letting out a slightly exhausted sigh. "Well, that was entertaining."

"I assume you'll be upholding your promise?" he smirked in response, but you shrugged your shoulders.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? –"

"I didn't know you had a way with children," he grinned, causing you to roll your eyes, but you turned as you heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and you smiled lightly as you saw who was emerging from the long hall.

Vincent, of course, with his black, long nosed dog beside him, but your smile was towards the beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed woman by his side, holding onto his arm before she let go and placed her hands together. "Oh my. You must be Undertaker's assistant. Lady Clara?"

"Indeed I am," you smiled, giving the woman a slight curtsey, before quickly recovering as Undertaker walked over, gently grasping the lady's hand and kissing the top of her glove.

"It's a pleasure to have been invited to your estate, my countess," Undertaker smiled before rising, and he walked back over to you while the woman giggled to herself. "And earl, it's been a while."

"Not too long," Vincent responded before giving you a smirk. "I'm glad to see you'll be entertaining my sons for the evening."

"Perhaps. It's not like I have anything else to do, and I do enjoy children," you stated with a smile, before you turned to Rachel to give her a lighter, more content smile, "but thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Rachel. I'll assure you, I'll keep a good eye on Undertaker. He tends to be a troublemaker."

"Nuh uh," Undertaker scoffed in response, earning the two of you an amused smirk by Vincent, and a light giggle by Rachel.

"You seem to have your hands full, Lady Clara."

"You can just call me Lara," you responded with a smile, giving her a slight nod at her smiling. "My name is Clara Graves, actually. Just so we're clear."

"Graves?" Vincent snickered to himself, causing you to cast him a sharp look.

"Yes. Graves. Do you have a problem with my name?"

"_Not at all~_" he grinned, but you rolled your eyes at his smirking, only for Rachel to giggle lightly at the scene.

"It is a pleasure for the two of you to come to our estate, Lord Undertaker, Lady Graves," Rachel formally spoke and you smiled and gave her a nod, while Undertaker snickered to himself, giving the lady a wide grin in response to her kind words. "How long will your stay be?"

"That's a good question," you responded, casting Undertaker a glance, and he smiled, though you could tell it wasn't as large as it could have been.

"Possibly a few days. Maybe a week, if you would like. We do not wish to overstay our welcome," Undertaker stated, simply, his gaze falling on Vincent as the man of the household simply smiled lightly in response.

"A week shall be fine. In fact, Undertaker, I wish to speak to you about something," he began, but before you knew it Rachel was by your side, giggling lightly into her gloved her hand.

"Excuse my husband for being so blunt."

"It's alright. I'm told I'm blunt as well," you told her, giving Undertaker a slight glare before returning your gaze to her, and smiling to her lightly. "By the way, your letters were very nice to receive. I truly enjoy the parts about Vincent," you stated, causing the man in question to scoff lightly.

"**Excuse** me?"

"I never wrote anything too incriminating," Rachel stated, giggling behind her hand, and you watched in amusement as her husband sighed deeply in response.

"Simply enjoyable," you stated, and you smirked at the look Undertaker was giving you.

"Hmm… it seems the women in our lives wish to destroy us," Undertaker decided to say, while you chuckled rather roughly in response.

"_Perhaps~_. Only if you misbehave, Undertaker."

"Please, do not lecture me, child," he responded, slightly huffing, but the two of you were smirking.

After all, being surrounded by the dead all the time, it's hard not to be amused and a tad excited when you're around other people. Who are living, of course. Who aren't sad and depressed over the death of their loved ones. "Anyways, if I may be so inclined, Lady Clara," you heard Rachel begin, breaking any sort of tension that could be forming between the four of you, "how about I show you around the mansion, while the men get to their business?"

"Of course. I would love a tour," you smiled before giving the two men a slight wave. "_Have fun, boys~_"

"Do not roam for too long, my love. You know how you can be," Vincent warned, but Rachel simply scoffed and waved the man off.

"Come now. I can handle walking around my own house. Let us be off, Lady Clara."

"Certainly, Rachel," you responded with your own smirk, though you hoped you weren't being rude. Apparently, it didn't seem to bother the woman as she grasped your arm, tugging you slightly so you began to follow her down the long hallway.


	19. Phantomhive Arc: The Grand Mansion 2

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Long time no see? Meh, I've been having work on and off last week, and this week it'll be a lot busier, so I may not have the energy to post chapters. So, I'll be trying to do a few more reviews today! At least this one. Maybe two?**

**The whole '3 games' thing was just a ploy to keep me writing… and then this 'arc' turned into almost 10 chapters. Great. OH WELL! I've enjoyed writing this part. It was a lot of fun, for me. In fact, I was going to add more, probably end the week off and have Undertaker and Clara say their goodbyes, but I decided to cut it off, a bit abruptly, towards the end. I got kind of tired being at the mansion, but hey! I got Clara to interact with more people, and we get to see the two little Phantomhive twins!**

**I decided to not give the youngest a name… yet. I mean, we don't know his name, and honestly I don't want to make up a name, and then his name changes in canon. I don't know… maybe I'll make it easier on myself and add a name for him later, but for now there is the 'younger twin' and the 'older twin', and of course the older twin is Ciel. I've personally thought of names the younger twin could have… Maybe Cyrus? Or even Cedric, after his grandfather? Or maybe even Finnian. But I'm guessing the younger twin's actual name is French, considering Ciel is a French inspired name. Or could be German. Don't know. But, heck, we, as the audience, may never get to know the boy's real name, in the manga, which sucks because I'm super curious!**

**Anyways, I suppose I'll end this little note here. I hope you guys are ENJOYING your weekend, and see you later!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You tried your hardest to seem interested, letting Countess Rachel show you around the estate with a beaming smile on her face, but honestly… you already know most of the house, but you nodded your head and would occasionally give her a smile as she showed you around.

You know where the servant's quarters are, the kitchen, the dining room and the grand ballroom. The various guest rooms of the second story, the master bedroom, the main Phantomhive office, and even the other rooms that were for chatting in, which felt like extra random space, but whatever. The bathrooms used for anyone who may show up, and the fact that every bedroom had a connecting bathroom in one way or another.

Yes… you know a whole lot about this building already… but there was that half of the building you haven't seen before. The parts that were deteriorated. Completely torn apart. Nonexistent… that is what fascinated you. Though, to be fair, most of the other half of the building was a mirror image of the other half, to an extent. Guest bedrooms, bathrooms, closet spaces. Sitting rooms, another library that you didn't know ever existed…

Yeah. It was practically the same, but you could tell there was a bit of charm to this place. A bliss and joyfulness that you never saw before.

This was a home, and you couldn't help but keep a smile on your face as the lady of the household showed you around.

Though… you could tell she was starting to get tired, and luckily the two of you were entering another sitting room. "And this room is our game room," she continued with a smile on her face, though it seemed a tad strained. "Where we keep most of our fun little board games, an exquisite chess set, and where my dear husband likes to play pool…"

"… We can sit down if you wish," you decided to say, but you frowned as she quickly shook her head.

"No, no. I'm fine! –"

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to sit down. I didn't realize how big this mansion is. I never stayed in such a big place, like this," you chuckled nervously, calmly sitting down into a chair before the woman could object, but instead of getting angry or irritated, she smiled, maybe a tad apologetically and yet relieved, and calmly sat down into a chair to catch her breath as you continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if I get lost."

"Not to worry. If you have any questions, myself or one of the servants can help you," she smiled, and you grinned in response.

"Sounds delightful, and once again, thank you for inviting us… I know I kind of forced Undertaker to come along, and I'm not sure if you like the man or not, but he's a bit of an antisocial male. If it were up to him, he'd be spending his days in the mortuary with the doors locked."

"I understand," she chuckled lightly into her hand, smiling in amusement at your words. "My husband is quite the opposite, but… I'm glad Lord Undertaker has found an interesting assistant.

"Though, I do not want to offend you, but I am curious as to why a lovely lady such as yourself isn't married, by now. Did something happen?" she asked in a curious tone, but when she noticed your hesitant look she quickly laughed it off. "You do not have to tell me! I was just curious! Vincent will bring very… interesting people over, from time to time. You do not seem to be part of my husband's… affairs for the Queen, so I was simply wondering."

"It's alright. It's a normal question to ask," you smirked, holding up a hand so she would stop apologizing, and then you sat there, a thoughtful look overcoming your face as you decided on how to tell this woman about your 'reasons'. Not that you need to explain yourself, but… she is **Countess** Phantomhive. "… Well, I can tell you, but if I hear you spreading gossip about me I won't be particularly happy," you decided to say, waiting for her response, and she gasped at your words.

"I would never! If you wish to keep our conversation a secret, I most certainly will."

"It's not really a secret. Just… I don't like talking about myself, very often," you decided to tell her, giving her a meek smile, before you sighed to yourself and scratched the back of your neck. "Well, I guess I'll start by saying, I grew up in a family of undertakers, I suppose you English types call them. Gravediggers, morticians… whatever. So, I noticed Undertaker advertising for an apprenticeship, and I was surprised when he said yes, when I walked in and asked. Most of the time, I'm turned away at the door, or the men think… they can use me for other reasons," you stated, a bit bluntly, but she smiled meekly in response.

"The wrong type of man can be an atrocious one. Ungentlemanlike."

"Indeed," you smirked, glad that she didn't seem disgusted, and you continued. "… As for why I'm not married… I never was forced into an arranged marriage. I was given the choice to choose for myself… and my parents died, so I have to live and work for myself. I know I'm not exactly a proper lady, but I do work hard. And yes, I know I'm attractive, and that can, in turn, attract the wrong attention," you scoffed, causing the woman to giggle lightly underneath her breath.

"It's nice to see a hard working woman. Though, I wouldn't necessary say you're improper."

"Thank you, Mrs. Phantomhive, but I'm still a bit unsure with this whole… ah, etiquette stuff your society strives for."

"It's quite alright. And please, call me Rachel," she told you, and you nodded your head as you sighed lightly to yourself. "… So, your relationship with the Undertaker," she began, her questioning causing you to give her a curious look as she continued in a calm voice, "are you… on friendly terms?"

"I wouldn't stick around if he was mean to me," you decided to say, but you know what she meant. "… The Undertaker is a nice man," you began, thinking for a moment before continuing. "Perhaps too nice. Kind of like a good Samaritan. He never asked for me to do anything, only that I could stay and work, and I'd get paid for it. It's not much, but considering that we share room and board, I don't mind the lack of funds… I used to worry about why he would want me to stay.

"After all, for a man to expect a woman to stay with them, you could only expect an ulterior motive," you stated, but then you smiled lightly to yourself, "but we enjoy each other's company. He makes me laugh, I make him laugh, and we both work hard at our craft. He has taught me a few new tricks of the trade… and maybe one day I'll move on, but for now, I'll be sticking around," you honestly told her, giving her a curious glance before smirking over at her. "Did that answer satisfy you?"

"Indeed," she chuckled lightly, sitting up in her chair as she sighed to herself. "It must be nice. The Undertaker has always scared me, but he seems a lot more… happy, lately. Not as sinister," she honestly told you, and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling lightly at her words. "Though, you seem like an interesting individual as well, Lady Clara."

"Well, if I can call you Rachel, you need to call me Lara," you told her, before chuckling, "and thank you. I'm going to take that comment as a win. Being a unique individual is better then being normal. At least, that's how I see things," you told her, and she nodded her head lightly in response.

"… Especially since you have told me a lot about your time in London, without ever meeting me in person! I do enjoy your letters."

"Thank you. I enjoy your letters as well. Thank you for the advice," you chuckled lightly at her wide smile. "Your kids sound so darling, and the stories you have about Vincent," you continued with a smirk, but she grinned to herself.

"I'm sorry for writing such stories, but for the record you started it."

"I'm just glad you didn't feel disgusted –"

"Not at all! So, did the florist really kill the candy maker?"

"It was a vicious triangle of love. That's what I'm assuming," you stated with a shrug, but before she could continue the two of you heard chattering and running, followed by two little boys running into the room, both of them gripping each other's hand tightly.

"Lady Graves! There you are!" the older twin, Ciel shouted, and the younger one held up a book, waiting for you to grab it as the older one continued with an excited jump in his step. "We decided on what we wanted!"

"Wanted? Are you demanding things from our guest, boys?" you heard Rachel say in a stern, yet motherly voice, and the boys looked down, seemingly ashamed. "I apologize –"

"Ah no. I should explain. Or… why don't you two explain?" you smirked at them, causing the woman to give you a slightly curious look, but the boys quickly took over the conversation.

And the youngest one started.

"Mother, Lady Graves told us she would play with us while they stay at the mansion."

"And, she told us she'll play whatever three games we come up with!" the oldest cheered, pointing to the book they had given you as you gave it a curious look. "We talked it over, and figured it out."

"Would your mother approve of these games, if we were to play them?" you asked in a curious tone, the two boys looking at each other, and you could tell Rachel was amused by the unsure looks on their faces. "… Well? Lay it on me. What did you two decide?"

"Okay!" the oldest one began. "I want to play a game outside! Something fun! But all we know is tag or hide and seek, so… maybe you have a fun game?" he asked, and you let out a light hum, pretending you were thinking as the other one began.

"I want you to read us that book," the younger one stated, pointing to the book as he continued. "Father and mother never want us to learn about medical stuff. Maybe you can teach us something?"

"You seem smart!" the other one stated, interrupting his younger brother, you noticed the boy didn't seem to mind. "Like Aunt Red!"

"Well… is it alright with you?" you asked, handing the book over to their mother, and she chuckled lightly as she looked at the book, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Of course. Sounds delightful. As long as you don't give them nightmares, Lady Lara."

"No promises," you smirked in reply, taking the book back as you eyed the two of them curiously. "_And~?_ What's the third game?"

"Chess!" they both cheered at the same time, their sudden cheer was enough to startle you, just slightly, causing Rachel to giggle lightly at your shock.

"We always win, except with father," the older one explained.

"Can you play chess?" the youngest one asked, and you couldn't help but smirk crudely.

"Play? Well, of course I know how to play chess. In fact," you chuckled, putting a hand on your chest as you grinned deviously, "I once won an award. First place in a chess competition in my hometown. Beat all the little boys and girls, and a few young adults, as well.

"So yes," you continued, noticing their excitement and their mother's amusement at how dramatic you were being, "I know how to play chess. The real question is, _can you beat a champion~?_"

"Mother. Can we play chess before dinner?" the older one asked, his eyes bright and beaming as he tried to get his mother to cave in to his request.

She simply chuckled lightly in reply. "Lady Lara, if you don't mind –"

"I don't mind. You can finish your tour later, if you wish. Which chess set will we use? –"

"You can use the set in the room," she told you with a smile, standing to her feet only to walk over to her sons, giving them both a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Mommy will be right back. I'll be checking up on father."

"Yes mum!" they stated in response, their heads turning back to you as you stood up, putting the medical book down on a table, before walking over to the chess set and carefully bringing it over to the chairs. You could tell they both wanted to say something, but you stayed calm and waited, eventually sitting down behind the chess set and watching as the boys both approached the empty chair, a bit unsure, as you began to set the chess pieces onto the board.

"… Who's playing first?" you heard the youngest ask, and you gave the two of them a sly smirk before looking back to the set and humming to yourself as you set the chess table, you being black and the boys being white.

"Whoever wants to play first… or, why don't you both play at the same time? You may need twice the luck, when you're up against me," you smirked, and they both huffed at your challenge.

"Come on! Let's do this," Ciel stated with a snort, nudging his younger brother into sitting in the chair. "We can show her what the Phantomhives can do, right?"

"Yes," the younger responded, determination on his face, and you calmly sat back, gesturing to the board.

"Well then, I'll be black, you boys can be white. You move first."

"A-ah… that pawn?"

"Maybe this one," the younger stated, pointing to a different pawn to the one his brother was pointing to, but before the older one could object the younger leaned over his chair, whispering something into his brother's ear, and he nodded in response.

"Good idea."

"I move D2 to D3," the younger spoke, moving his pawn upward on the board, before waiting patiently for your move.

You smiled lightly, but decided to play a bit reckless to see how these boys will react.

If they'll see through your bluff or believe you don't know what you're doing. The most fun, in chess, is catching your opponents off guard. "Good boys. Then I'll move my D7 to D5," you stated, noticing the confused looks on their faces, and the older boy scoffed.

"She's playing us as fools. Let's be smart."

"Right," the younger stated, leaning over his chair to talk to his brother, and you calmly sat back in your chair, crossing one leg on top of the other, as you calmly waited for their next move.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Not fair!" the oldest cry out, while the younger one let out a tired groan, sinking into his seat while the oldest hit his hands against the table where the chess set currently was residing upon. "This must be a trick! No one can win so many times in a row."

"Unless they're father," the younger one stated, as if the answer was obvious, but the oldest scoffed and slumped back into the chair he had grown accustomed to sitting in, or rather standing upon.

"Now, now. Don't be so angry. Would it be any sort of victory if I let you win?" you smirked as you slowly rose to your feet, yawning and stretching your sore limbs while they both looked rather distort.

"N-no."

"Exactly… I could tell you how I win so easily, but you have to keep it a secret," you grinned, giving the boys a wink as you put a finger over your lips, and the two twins glanced at each other, before looking back to you and nodding, excitedly, while their previous anger dwindled to be overshadowed by their own curiosity. "… Okay then," you began, sitting back down as you calmly began to reset the chess board with a thoughtful look on your face.

"The solution is very simple, if you think about it. A reason why people like to play chess is the same reason why people will play a game like poker… or any sort of board game. It's strategy, and a bit of luck. With card games, it's the luck of the draw if you'll be close to a quick win or not, but with chess and checkers, it's all about your own decisions. Which is why I personally enjoy the game.

"My strategy, you see, is reading my opponents," you continued, holding up a bishop and pointing to the youngest. "For example, I know you like to strategize a bit more, younger brother, think ahead, but your older brother's insistence causes you to faulter in your decision making, even if you have a better strategy in mind," you told them, but you put the bishop down and continued, "_but~_, even with those setbacks, you always come up with a new strategy. So what makes it easy, for me? Getting the two of you to disagree on what piece to move.

"And you, older brother," you stated, pointing a rook in his general direction to get his attention before you set the piece properly down on the board, "you are a very direct, offensive chess player. By yourself, you would be very aggressive and you could easily win. You take pieces, as well as lose pieces, but in the end I'm sure you would win, but playing offensively has its setbacks. When you don't work together, you both argue about how the next move will go. There's no strategy agreed amongst the two of you, which is why you continue to lose, when you play together like this," you told them, placing a few more pieces properly onto the chess board before smirking to yourself.

"But don't get me wrong. Both ways of playing chess are perfectly acceptable. That's why most people cannot beat you. Working together, you have the best of both strategies, an offensive and defensive set up, but when someone can see through that strength… and weakness, you make it easy to win. Just by how you play," you told them, pausing for a moment before leaning onto the board and giving them both a light smirk. "Did you notice how I played? Phantom twins?"

"A-ah… I-I don't know," the youngest one spoke, and the older one nodded his head.

"Yeah! When you started to make it easy, you made the game harder. I don't get it! –"

"It's easy," you told them, holding up a finger so they wouldn't start yelling again, and you put a finger to your lips, indicating that they should keep quiet, before you continued calmly. "Once you think about it. Unlike most players, who will fight one way or the other, I do both. I jump between defensive, to offensive, then back to defensive. It's a way to confuse your opponents.

"For, you see, knowing how to play the field in both ways is the best way to play chess, or any game for that matter. In some instances, you need to be on your guard and strategize so you don't lose too many pieces… and on the other hand, there are times you need to take the offensive approach, demolishing your foes with quick swipes. So, since you love to play chess so much," you continued, standing back to your feet and noticing the boys' eyes were following you like excitable puppies, "why don't you try that approach? Reading your opponents'' moves? The more times you play, with a variety of others, the easier it becomes to read a person. Trust me. Learning how to read the moves of others will help you, in playing chess and in the long game of life… Okay?" you asked, wondering if they got all that, and they quickly nodded their heads, as if to say they heard you.

"Great. I think it's dinnertime. We should head to your dining room before someone comes looking for us, _hmm~?_"

"Yes'um!" they both exclaimed at once, though they didn't seem as excited to leave as they were to play chess, but you smiled to yourself, holding open the door and insisting they walk through, first, before they began to skip and rush down the hallway.

"Do be a gentleman and show a young lady where the dining room is, eh? I'm not familiar with your residency," you chuckled at them, watching in amusement as they both looked at each other, before they rushed over, the younger one gripping your hand while the older one was pointing down the hallway.

"This way!" he cheered, practically leaving his brother behind, but you smirked, pretending that you were following the boys, but in actuality you know exactly where the dining room is.

It's just more amusing to watch their confused and excitable reactions.

"Mummy!" you heard the older one shouting the moment he reached the dining room, while you let the younger one tugged you into the room, before he let go of your hand, giving you a quick and nervous bow, before rushing off to join the hug his older brother started.

"Boys! I was wondering where you were."

"We were going to send a search party to find the three of you," you heard Vincent say, causing you to give him a look before you shrugged and smirked, causing the man to give you a curious glance as you looked at the long table and noticed Undertaker had stood on his feet, holding out a chair with a goofy grin on his face.

You sighed to yourself, making your way over to your seat while you heard the children excitedly explaining everything that had happened within the past few hours. … "Every single time! We lost!"

"Lost, dear Ciel?" Rachel asked, and the younger one nodded his head in response.

"She beat us! In chess! Father, you should play with Lady Lara. She's just as good as you."

"Maybe better," the younger one stated with a shrug, already crawling up into his seat, and thanking his mother as he was scooted up closer to the table, while Rachel picked up his twin and placed him in a seat right next to him; the two between Vincent and Rachel at the dinner table.

"_Better~?_" Vincent responded with an intrigued voice, giving you a look while you thanked Undertaker as he scooted your chair in before you properly sat down, and as you began to look around you noticed his staring, but you gave him a glare in response.

"Nuh uh. Not that I don't mind beating people in chess, but don't the boys want to play two more games with me, am I right?" you decided to say, the man giving you a confused look, but the boys had already turned their attention to the food.

"Right!" the oldest exclaimed, suddenly looking over to his father. "The Lady Lara wants to play three games with us!"

"We already played one. Chess," the younger one stated, but the older one continued.

"So, can they stay? _Pleassse~?_" the boy whined, before he felt a pat on his head, and huffed as Vincent began to laugh rather lightly in response.

"She is not a pet, my child, but of course. If Undertaker and his assistant don't mind staying for a few more nights," Vincent responded, but you gave Undertaker an annoyed look, which caused the man to snicker slightly at your irritated stare.

"… We agreed that we're staying for a week. At least. And we purposefully made time to stay for a while, am I right Undertaker?"

"_Perhaps~_" he snickered, but when you nudged him the shoulder, letting out a huff as he continued to giggle. You sighed before giving the children a light smile.

"Tell you what, we have more days. You both can sleep and we'll resume our game playing tomorrow… alright?"

"Yes'um!" the two boys cheered, causing their parents to chuckle lightly at the boys' enthusiasm, but you smiled lightly to yourself before glancing over at Undertaker, only for your good mood to turn a tad annoyed.

"… What?"

"You're quite amusing," Undertaker stated, causing you to roll your eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself from looking to the delicious looking food as dinner finally began to present itself to you, and your stomach was on the verge of outright grumbling.

Dang. You didn't realize all of these activities have gotten you hungry, and the moment you noticed the others had started eating, you dug into your food, too hungry to really care if you looked more like a carnivore then a normal, polite and dignified human.


	20. Phantomhive Arc: The Family 1

You couldn't stop yourself from smiling, happily. Not out of malice or irritation, or a crude way to keep some sort of look that seemed pleasant, but a genuine smile.

To watch the Phantomhive family, giggling and playing with each other, smiles and laughter filling the air…

You wonder how that's like, being part of a family like that?

Slowly, your smile turned into a slight line as you recall your past. The past that you had left behind. For good. The pain of losing your parents, your big brother…

You wonder when disaster will hit. When this happy little family will be broken apart. It happens every generation, and if not, that generation is rebuilding itself from the last one. Nothing lasts forever. Even happiness.

"Clara?" you heard a voice, so soft and quiet you almost didn't hear it, but a slight nudge to your arm jolted you out of your thoughts as you gave Undertaker a very confused look, causing him to smirk at your expression. "You were deep in thought, again."

"Oh… sorry," you mumbled, glancing to the family across the table as Rachel scolded her sons, while Vincent was laughing at something they had done, and he watched as you meekly smiled again, only for your smile to wean, again.

"… Are you alright?" he asked, causing you to glance over at him, though you couldn't, at this particular moment in time, act irritated.

Just tired… and sad. "Yes… maybe. Just… thinking," you decided to say, but before he could prompt you for some more information you could hear Vincent chuckling.

"Whispering to one another? _I hope it's not about us~_" he spoke, causing you to quickly sit up in your chair, noticing the other three were giving you both a curious look, and you smirked deviously in response.

"_Perhaps it is~_, perhaps not. Just discussing our plans for tomorrow," you stated. It was a complete lie, but whatever. Hopefully it's enough to drop the topic the man apparently wanted to bring up.

"You two look like a lovely couple!" you heard Rachel state, causing you to stare at her wide eyed while Undertaker seemed to snicker underneath his breath, as if it was a joke, and you watched as Vincent playfully tapped his wife's arm to get her attention.

"A _deadly~_ couple. Maybe you two should think about courtship," Vincent decided to comment, but before you could object you could hear one of the twins ask a very simple question.

"What is court ships?"

"Courtship is when an eligible gentleman and lady spend time together, under the supervision of others, while they learn about each other," Rachel stated with a slight giggle, holding the confused boy in her arms as she turned to Vincent. "Right Vincent?"

"Exactly. You spend a few years attending parties with the young lady, frequently going to her home, and talking with her relatives. Letting them get acquainted to you."

"Then, when the time is right, the gentleman asks the lady for her hand in marriage," Rachel explained, kissing the top of her son's head before turning to the two of you, smiling sweetly.

But you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a slight huff. "Uh, years? Seems a bit long."

"Oh hoh. Do Americans marry each other within a month's time?" Vincent asked with a devious smirk, and you scoffed in disgust.

"N-no! At least, I hope not. Just… what? You spend time with each other for a few years, become fiancées, but then spend another few years doing that before actually getting married? Geeze. By the time that's all over, I'd be in my sixties," you scoffed, earning you a light laughter from Undertaker, causing you to turn to him and nudge him sharply in the shoulder. "Hey! No laughing. I'm serious."

"_Seems to me~_ you have your work cut out for yourself, Undertaker," Vincent smirked, while Rachel giggled into her hand while you huffed in response.

"Hush! We aren't dating. Making such an accusation is appalling. I'm not a… I don't sleep around with just anyone," you decided to say, wanting to say the word 'sex' and 'whore', but considering there's children present, you decided it was best to stay cryptic. "… Why are you even suggesting this?"

"Well, if you are not interested in the Undertaker, no offense sir," Rachel began before giving you a sincere smile, "I was wondering, perhaps I could introduce you to some friends I know. You are so good with the children, Lady Clara. It would be a shame if you never had children of your own," she decided to say, your gaze staring over at Vincent in a slight accusation, wondering if **this** was the reason why you were invited to the estate.

But then you paused.

They are… right, aren't they? If you don't care about the Undertaker in that way and you don't know that many people to begin with, maybe it's about time to broaden your horizons? See who exactly is available, in England? Considering Vincent is an earl, you're sure to bag yourself a pretty rich lord, if you're lucky.

But…

**Are** you even interested?

You glanced at Undertaker, the conversation growing quiet when you didn't actually give an actual response, and everyone seemed to be watching you as you looked at the man sitting beside you while you were deep in thought. Even Undertaker seemed a bit unnerved you were just staring at him, not saying anything. Just… staring with a blank stare written on your face.

"… I think…" you began, slight uncertainty in your voice, but you quickly looked away from Undertaker, breaking eye contact with him, as you looked back to Rachel with a solemn look on your face, not one of joy or even irritation. "I'll be honest, I suppose… One day, I'd love to have children. If I can't produce myself, I wouldn't mind adopting," you told the Phantomhives, giving them a light smile as you continued, though your smile didn't seem to reach your eyes, "and I know I'd be a perfect teacher or even a caretaker for an orphanage.

"But, right now… I'm not looking for a partner for life. I just want to live and be happy, with myself. I've forgotten who I am and.. I'm currently trying to find myself, as a person. I'm not exactly ready for any commitments… I apologize," you decided to finish, but the woman quickly shook her head.

"N-no. No! I should apologize. I was only wondering," she chuckled lightly, though her grin seemed to wean at the solemn look on your face. Thoughtful, though not hateful. Just… you weren't exactly sure how to respond to this.

You're honestly more confused than anything else.

Even with all of the accusations, you never actually stop to think…

Do you actually like the Undertaker? That way?

Is that why you keep telling him your secrets?

Or maybe… it's something deeper. And you fear it's something else that he is longing for, and it isn't you.

Not… you…

"Lady Lara!" you heard one of the boys shouting, snapping you out of your thoughts as you blinked, a tad confused as you turned your head to look to your side, and noticed the twins were tugging at your clothes. "H-hey! You awake?"

"I'm awake," you responded with a light smile, and you watched as the younger one walked up to you, tugging once more on your clothes.

"Lady Lara, you look sad. Do you want to play chess, again? We won't try very hard so you can win," he spoke, but you smirked, patting the top of his head, and rustling the hair of his twin.

"Now, now. Even I don't want a victory if you aren't trying. Say, if you're looking to do something, why don't you show me what sort of books you like. Hmm? It won't count towards your three games. I just want to read a book," you told them, smiling lightly as they gave each other a quick look before looking back up at you.

"Yes!" they both shouted, but you turned as you heard Vincent speaking.

"Do not keep Lady Graves up for too long. We all need to go to sleep, tonight," he said in a strangely stern voice, though before you knew it, his smile was back on his face, while you stood to your feet and let the twins grab your hands.

"We won't!" they spoke, saying goodbye to the adults in the room, but you couldn't stop yourself from glancing back at Undertaker as you were dragged away.

Noticing…

He had a similar thoughtful look on his own face. Puzzled, and solemn. As if…

He hadn't really thought about 'courtship', either.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

The thought of losing my lovely Clara to some young man was… infuriating.

But then again, why should I be so annoyed? I always thought that one day she would leave me. But…

Maybe it was sooner than I expected…

"… Hey," I heard a voice, my head only turning slightly at the smile the man was giving me, or rather the much older boy.

Ah…

I can still remember when this blue haired boy would run into my leg, in an effort to keep me around the manor for a moment longer. As if he always knew there was a connection, but didn't want to admit it.

Never asked…

"Rachel, love," he began, grabbing at my arm in an attempt to pull me out of my chair. "Lord Undertaker and I will be having a little chat. Maybe you should join the boys for the evening activities?"

"Of course," she smiled, the two of them exchanging a 'look' that I know spoke more then what they were saying to each other.

I sighed. This trip to the manor… they must have planned this. To bombard us with these sorts of questions to confuse us.

Well… they are Phantomhives. I shouldn't be too surprised by this.

"Come on. Undertaker. Let's go to the garden," Vincent requested with a smile on his face, though he was giving me no room to say no. With a reluctant sigh, one I wasn't planning on hiding, this time, I let the man drag me away, his main butler following us as he tugged me along, until we stepped outside.

The moon was waning. The sky, much darker then usual, but the cool nighttime air and the moonlight that shone upon the vibrant garden was enough to make me smile. Just slightly. I followed Vincent as he walked down to the bushes, the plants and flowers that were finally beginning to grow, some fully at bloom. "Forgive us, Undertaker. My lady and I said some things that must have disturbed you. We were only joking," he stated, but I quickly dismissed his words with a slight shake of my head.

"No, dear earl. You have nothing to forgive for," I told him. It was true, though. He shouldn't be asking for my forgiveness over something so trivial.

"… I wouldn't be asking this if I did not care," he began, dismissing his butler with a wave of his hand, though I only noticed the butler moving to stand by the bright lit doors behind me as Vincent continued, "but, as a friend, I am worried."

"Worried? You shouldn't be worried for me, young earl –"

"My mother passed away fifteen years ago," the boy began, his brown eyes staring up at my bangs, into my eyes, even if he couldn't see my response to his words. He still looked me in the eyes, unlike many other humans I seem to come across, these days. "I have been noticing… you have become rather distant, lately. Whenever I come to visit. Don't tell me you are missing her," he stated, or asked. I wasn't quite sure, but I know he wasn't asking to get information out of me, or to try to sabotage me.

No. The boy was asking because… he was worried. Unsure. I could tell, by the worried look on his face, a look I rarely see, and to see the boy unhappy like this…

I couldn't stop myself from sighing, lightly, underneath my breath. "… I noticed that you like to talk about Clara, a lot," he continued, pretending that I answered his question or at least gave him a response, and he looked thoughtfully at his estate, his garden. At the blue and white flowers that were currently in bloom, the reds, yellows, and greens mixed in to create a beautiful, living outdoors bouquet. "She… is a very sweet girl, Undertaker. The fact that she continues to put up with a man like yourself should be telling."

"Of what?" I asked, causing him to give me a grin before looking back to his garden with a thoughtful look on his face.

"That she must care for you," Vincent stated, before turning to me and staring up at my face. "No woman stays with a man, unless she cares for him. I may not fully understand your relationship, Undertaker, but…" he continued, suddenly grabbing one of my hands, staring down at the bony, pale skin and long black nails before he looked up and gave me a light smirk, "I know my mother would be at peace to see you happy, with another woman. I understand if you worry or you're still sad over my mother's death, but understand that us humans do not live for very long. If you don't take your opportunity now, you may lose Clara forever."

"… Maybe I want to let her go," I responded, simply, but he scoffed, letting go of my hand as he gave me a devious smirk.

"I doubt that. You seemed so disgusted when Rachel started talking about courtship. _After all~, you~~_ could be the one to ask, and not some boy her age. I do not care, personally, but my lady has taken a shine to your assistant. And, Rachel can always see the good in a person, no matter how problematic they may actually be… So, just think about it," he told me, giving me a swift pat on the back before sighing to himself, looking back out at the garden.

I couldn't help but gaze at his short blue locks of hair, and bright hazelnut brown eyes, blinking as he thought. His eyes were calculating, his posture proper, but… he still looks like that boy I used to see, playing around in the garden with his sister, laughing and inviting me to play, with them. Knowing I couldn't say no.

He's… grown up into a strapping young man with a family…

But… his words did hold some truth, I suppose.

Humans don't live forever. I could lose Clara in a blink of an eye, much like my Lady Claudia…

And…

The boy doesn't need to know what fully happened. What I did. How I…

Got my vengeance.

He doesn't need to know.

I sighed, to myself, as I gazed at the moonlight. At the pretty garden… loving every moment I stood, in utter silence, the company of the boy calming my already racked nerves. My worried thoughts. My fears and anxieties.

Maybe he feels the same way.

He did lose his mother, after all. Fifteen years ago…

"… Time flies," I couldn't stop myself from saying, aloud, causing the boy to chuckle dryly underneath his breath.

"It most certainly does… I can't believe she's been gone… for fifteen years… that I've been an earl for fifteen years," he continued, but I patted his head, causing his head to move and glance up at me, while I stared off at the estate.

"You've been a good boy," I told him, simply, patting his head before letting my hand drift to my side, and he scoffed underneath his breath.

"Don't call me boy. It's degrading."

"You are a pup. _What can I say~?_" I grinned to myself, knowing I was pushing the boy's buttons, but instead of lashing out at me or throwing a fit, he chuckled dryly underneath his breath.

"Oh… Undertaker, I don't know how you find your humor, but don't change," he smirked, before he began to turn away and make his way back inside. "I'll be heading off to bed. I'll send Rachel your regards."

"Yes… have sweet dreams, Vincent."

"You too, Undertaker," he responded, simply, leaving me alone in the garden as I continued to look, and ponder.

Wonder… if I should truly move on. Isn't it too soon? Fifteen years?

… But… that only begs the question…

Would I really love Clara for who she is… or what she reminds me of?

"… Oh milady. I'm so sorry," I sighed to myself, closing my eyes as I felt the cool breeze against my skin, cooling down my body temperature. Not that I minded. I can become rather warm in this undertaker's attire.

But… I worry. I cannot help but worry.

But… to lose Clara to another… could I live with myself if that happened?

Again?

But should I even try? What if she rejects me?

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: HEY! I had fallen asleep/took a nap, but now I'm posting another chapter. This may be the only other chapter for the day? It probably will be.**

**There is also a Clara & Undertaker POVs, Clara first and Undertaker second. Obviously, I hope. I think I also spend some time going over their inner personal thoughts, in this arc. Mainly, this chapter, but yeah! Some thoughts that may have not passed their minds, or just did at that moment.**

**I will admit this, writing for the Undertaker is rather hard. That's why I try to avoid writing his POVs. I personally like to think, given the current situation, that his mind lingers towards Claudia, the past, and rarely towards the future. That reapers rarely think about the future. The thought, of a future. Even if they can live for long periods of time, much longer then any mortal human. Their thoughts just never think that way.**

**As if any sort of happiness, any thought for a brighter future, will cause their happiness to crumble into nothingness. That something wrong will happen.**

**At least, that's how I'm writing my reapers. Angsty. At least, their inner thoughts are. They may act happy and goofy on the outside, insane [aka Grell], or stern and over the top at times, but in actuality they're insecure like anyone else. After all, if you're not born a reaper you were created by your suicide. A human death. So, a human soul trapped in an eternal vessel… I think it'd be difficult to think straight, at times. At least, that's my opinion. I hope I'm coming across that way, in my writing of these reapers.**

**But, Undertaker is a bit hard to write about. I'll be honest. I can only write him as I personally see him, so I will apologize if he isn't the Undertaker you see in your head. So… I'll tell you this:**

**At least for the sake of this story, Undertaker is the father of Vincent… and possibly Francis. I'm debating if Claudia actually married another noble to keep up appearances, but had his half children in secret, or perhaps she decided to 'live in sin' and be her own sort of countess. Regardless of social norms, at the time. If you guys have any interesting ideas on how you want to see Claudia, do tell me. There aren't a lot of fanfic stories out there on Claudia. In fact, a major reason why I wanted to write a story like this is to indirectly have Claudia in the story. She's just… even more of a mystery then Undertaker is. Honestly, what is the basis of their relationship? To have Undertaker crying over the picture of a younger Vincent, yet obviously he met Claudia, first. **

**I personally like the notion of Undertaker being Cedric. Even though I personally prefer the name of Adrian Crevan, the name made up by the fans so he could **_**have**_** a name, I think him being the father to Vincent, at least, would be an interesting idea. After all, when the German reapers sees Ciel's family tree, they sound as if they've had a realization, and we can only see Claudia's name and the name of her lover, who in turn made Vincent. The moment I saw that, I had to come to the conclusion that Undertaker's name could be Cedric. Seriously. I know some people don't agree with that theory, but I want to. I think that'll make the overall story of Kuroshitsuji that much more interesting.**

**Considering the twin theory has been officially confirmed, what's not to say we won't learn that Undertaker is Cedric? I recall a time when people weren't even sure if Undertaker was a reaper, until he revealed himself on the ship, green eyes and death scythe in hand. It's because we only saw a quick shot of his eyes, at the end of the circus arc, but before that the anime had Undertaker as a reaper. So we didn't know if he actually was a reaper or not, or if the anime creators were taking some creative liberties.**

**Anyways, back to what I was trying to say, I'll explain more about these little connections later. Connections I hope I've written into the story, but if it's not fully clear then I apologize, but that's why I'll be putting them plain and simple, here in the notes. So, if you guys like the idea of Claudia having a husband, but Undertaker/Cedric is the father of the children/only Vincent, or just being a single aristocrat lady living in the Victorian era, do COMMENT! Cause, for now, I've written it in a roundabout way, but I'm still unsure if I'll give Claudia a proper 'husband', or not. If I'll have her married to someone… or not. I don't know. Or heck, even an Undertaker in disguise, but personally I think that'll be unlikely. It's for the same reason I've had characters saying to Clara 'why are you with this weirdo?' all the time. It's because a young lady doesn't simply live in a mortuary, unless they're relatives or… getting more from them. Besides, if Clara is beautiful, surely she can find someone wealthy to take care of her.**

**That's just not the life she wants to live. That's all.**

**But anyways, yeah, answering that question would be great, guys. I know no one has commented to my story, yet, and it's okay if you guys don't. It'd just be nice to have some ideas to work with. Especially with Claudia, since she is an enigma. Currently.**

**Hmm… and maybe, also state your opinions on Francis possibly being Undertaker's child, too. I decided to have her younger then Vincent, even though I'm not even sure if she is the younger or older sibling. Personally, I've love if, it was confirmed, that Francis is the older sibling, but considering her husband's age compared to Vincent… maybe she's not? I doubt they're twins, though. It's never implied that they can be. Just siblings.**

**But they could have different fathers.**

**I will say this, though. I also thought that Francis had green eyes, like the rest of her Midford family. I thought it would be cooler, or maybe more understandable, that Alexis married Francis, both for looks and inner beauty. But, now that her eyes are confirmed to be blue, then do blue eyes run in the family? At first, I wanted to think that Claudia had brown eyes… but now that Francis, in the Book of Atlantic, to have blue eyes, then I, in turn, have decided to give Claudia blue eyes. Blue eyes, blue hair. I was thinking to not give her blue hair, considering in the manga the silhouettes of 'past Phantomhives' show the woman countess with lighter hair… but perhaps it's a very light blue? Could be why even the twins have blue hair, too. It's more of a dominative color of hair in the family. And if she did have blonde hair, then the father of the children would have to be a blue haired man… and I'd rather stick to my original theory of Undertaker being the father.**

**So, yeah. **

**And yes, Francis is confirmed to have blue eyes… even though they look more grayish blue… bluish light purple in the Book of Atlantic. I mean, seriously. They look grayer then blue, and personally I think they are gray, but the official wiki Black Butler page says that her eyes are blue. So… yeah. So, maybe because of Undertaker's genes we have Francis with blonde hair, because Undertaker, if we go with the theory that reapers look like the humans they used to be, may have very light blonde/silver hair. I realized, since he has no eyebrows, that he could be an albino. I looked this up, when I was much younger. Albinos tend to not have eyebrows, have lighter eyes, sometimes red, and white hair. That's the only time humans can be born with natural white hair, and their skin is usually pale, too. So, yeah. There you go, if you guys haven't come to that conclusion too. Makes me think Undertaker's roots are from Scandinavia, but that's just my little theory. Not that I care too much.**

**Or… Vincent and Francis have two different fathers, and Vincent just looks more like his mother. But then again, Elizabeth, and apparently also Francis, are badasses when it comes to fighting with a sword. They could have gotten it from their father/grandfather, **_**soooo~**_**, there's that. Just some food for thought.**

**Okay, I'll stop ranting, now. I wasn't going to say this much, but then I did. WHOOPS!**

**But yeah… this'll probably be the last chapter for the day, but hey! Some more Phantomhive moments! And I'm also bringing in a connection between Clara and her Phantomhive roots… and yes, hopefully I'll get to her reaper roots, eventually. In fact, I'm currently looking forward to writing about that side of her family, but no. Today isn't the time for that.**

**Okay… well, I think that's about it. You guys ENJOY your week, and I hope to hear from you guys! Have a good night! **


	21. Phantomhive Arc: The Family 2

**A/N: HEY GUYS!**

**I haven't posted in a while because of work. In fact, I'm supposed to be going into work later today, but since I have some time till then, and I'm awake, and I can't exactly go on a walk today because it's snowing [it's cold and I want spring, even though spring isn't my favorite season!] then I decided to look over this chapter! If it's left in a cliffhanger I apologize, and if not, that's great! But I only have time to post one… probably today.**

**I'm getting home by 8pm, tonight, and have to wake up and be into work by 10am. So, I'd rather just head to bed once I get home.**

**But, I'll also say this, I haven't posted in a few days because I've been working on my latest chapters. When it comes to action, I have to write, at least that scene, all at once, or else I start to write in tangents… Sadly, I'm starting to write in a bit of a tangent, but I'm hoping to finish my 'fight scene' so, in my head, I can move on. **

**Oh, and lastly, if this wasn't quite clear… So Clara DOES have asthma. Not a terrible form of asthma, but she can get an attack if she's under a lot of stress or very angry. However, she's lived with it for years, and has managed to train to be a fighter, despite her problems. Sadly, the asthma never has fully left her, so she can understand the situation Rachel and the younger twin is going through. Just so you know. Now, I'm no real expert, by my father does has asthma. It was worse when he was younger, and he has an inhaler on hand, just in case. Considering this isn't the 21****st**** century, inhalers don't exist, so Clara has to come up with different solutions.**

**I read that some inhalers use caffeine to help with the symptoms. That's why she suggests coffee, for a young boy. Not because she wants to stunt the boy's growth, though that is a good reason why the younger twin is smaller and frailer then the older one, but to see if his asthma can be combated with caffeine… but there's my reasoning to that. I'm not sure if I give that 'advise' in this chapter or the very next one, but just a heads up!**

**Okay. THAT'S IT! I hope you guys are enjoying your week, or if you live in the USA, stay safe in that blizzard! I'm in Colorado and I haven't been hit with too much bad weather, just basic snow, but I know there are places that have flooding and a terrible blizzard. So, just stay safe! And I'll see you guys later!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Hearing a knock at your door, you let out a deep, tired grumble… but hearing the knocking again, you turned in the sheets, just slightly, so your mouth could be heard as you said a mumbled, "Yes?"

"Lady Graves. I am here to tend to you. May I come in?" you heard a voice, causing you to pause and squint your eyes in annoyance.

And then you sighed, deeply, though you honestly didn't want to be disturbed. "… Fine," you stated, turning over in the bed so your body was facing away from the door, but you put your head over the soft blankets, trying to get back to sleep.

Sadly, the moment the woman stepped into the room and pulled open the curtains you specifically closed so you wouldn't be disturbed, you could only outright groan in agitation. "Come now, Lady Graves. It's morning. It's time to arise with the sunlight."

"Don't bother me," you growled lowly, trying to pretend you could get back to sleep, but instead you felt a hand being pressed on your shoulder, shaking you in an attempt to wake you up. "… Must you do this?"

"Yes. Lord Phantomhive would like you to come to breakfast. According to him, you promised the twins that you would be playing with them today," she stated, and you sighed, lowly.

You shot her one sharp glare through the covers you were wrapped within, causing the maid to flinch at your glaring, but then your face fell into the pillow as you sighed, deeply, in irritation before slowly sitting up into the bed, groaning as you put a hand to your head. You rubbed your sore forehead, sighing to yourself at being awakened like this. "… Could you, at the very least, close those blinds?"

"Yes ma'am," she responded, making her way back to the curtains and closing them, and she turned to you with a smile on her face while you sighed in relief, though you still felt irritated. "Forgive me, but it is my job to attend to you during your stay here, at the Phantomhive mansion," she told you, but before she could continue you held up a finger, your hand running through your matted hair as you looked her over with a silent, critical stare.

You noticed her soft auburn brown hair, tied back in a slightly messy bun, her stereotypical maid attire, full body white apron and everything, and the slight freckles upon her face as her nose scrunched at your staring, her pink skin lightly brightening under your gaze as you looked into her light brown eyes. "… What's your name?" you asked, causing the girl to give you a smile.

"I'm known as Kyla, ma'am –"

"Well, I'm Lara, and you don't have to call me ma'am. I'm guessing we're about the same age, anyways," you scoffed, causing her to blush lightly in embarrassment.

"A-actually… I'm twenty five," she told you, causing you to pause before letting out an 'oh' in response.

"I'm nineteen, close to twenty, so I suppose the age difference isn't too far off," you responded, before sighing as you began to push the sheets away from your body, intent on getting up all at once, instead of lying in bed for another few hours.

It'd be nice, to lie in bed. It's been a while since you've had such a comfortable set up, but… sadly, it doesn't look like you'll be getting any peace and quiet. So, you might as well get up now. "Is your birthday close?" she asked in a curious tone, causing you to give her a glance before you smirked, lightly, in response.

"_Maybe~_… So, let's get to it, then. You got me up and everything," you stated, not exactly giving the woman any room to complain or respond, but instead she gave you a nod and a smile, motioning for you to walk into the nearby bathroom, where she helped you get ready for the day.

It was… weird to be helped for every little thing. But, with Kyla's guidance, you learned how you should properly prepare yourself. At least, how to put your clothes on, and how Victorians wash themselves, and just how long this sort of morning routine should take.

Luckily for you, this didn't take too long, and you were properly fitted into a corset and bloomers, long white stockings that reached up past your kneecaps, kept up by garter belts while you slipped into black dress shoes, a white blouse tucked into a black skirt, and lastly an outer blackish, gray cloth that happened to be one of your better outfits. It was simple, but a bit easier to wear around a building. 'Proper', as the ladies would call it, but easy to put on and take off.

"Too bad you don't have colorful outfits," you heard the maid say as she tugged at the ends of your skirt, making sure it was straight before standing back up while you shrugged your shoulders.

"I'm surrounded by the deceased, Kyla. People expect me to always wear black. Why would I bother with clothes that have too much color?" you told her, before reaching for a brush, giving her a smirk, as you began to comb out your hair and properly put your hair up. If there was anything you've grown used to, it'd be putting your hair up into a bun. You didn't mind a ponytail, but keeping your hair up and constricted was hard to get used to. Heck, the only reason why you bother is because of the looks men would give you whenever they walked into the mortuary, if your hair was down.

If there's anything you detest, it's the leering gaze of predatory males. Though women, not so much.

"But, you have such lovely dresses here!" you heard Kyla say as she began to look at the outfits you had placed in the closet, and not in the drawers, and you glanced over your shoulder before scoffing as you went back to pinning up your hair in a simple, yet personally styled design.

One of the only things you get to do, yourself, for yourself, it would seem.

"I had a feeling I'd need something a bit less… gray," you decided to say, but then you sighed, "but it's not like I want to wear any of them –"

"Oh, come now! I'm sure you would look beautiful –"

"Beauty or not, I brought them because Mrs. Hopkins insisted I try them. Maybe I'll leave them here if I don't have room in my baggage for them," you decided to say, but then you heard a huff, causing your head to glance behind you as you noticed the young maid was clutching her fists, before punching up into the air.

"That settles it! Tomorrow, I am getting you into one of these dresses! No exceptions! –"

"No way –"

"Come on! You'd look so pretty! And besides, I believe the Midfords will be visiting us tomorrow. _You want to look~ your best~_" she told you with a grin, but you couldn't help but give her an unsure look.

"… Midfords? If I may ask, who are they?"

"The Midfords are a highly prestigious household, under the title of marquess. Their current head is Marquess Alexis Leon Midford, but his wife is our Lord Phantomhive's sister, Marchioness Francis," she told you, pausing for a moment before continuing with a light smile. "They have an older son named Edward, and a daughter, Elizabeth. Their dear Elizabeth is betrothed to our young Ciel Phantomihve," she explained, and you gave her a curious look before smiling at her, lightly.

"Ah. I see. Thank you," you told her, and she giggled in response.

"Of course! Lady Phantomhive told me that you aren't quite accustomed to English society. I understand if you do not know who certain people are. In fact," she continued, while you reached into one of your bags, pulling out a hand sized box, and after unlatching the lock you placed it in front of the vanity mirror, looking at the various accessories you've accumulated over your stay. Mainly for your hair, but some other items as well, "I didn't know who the nobles are when I first arrived. You learn quickly when you're a servant to the Phantomhive household."

"I see. And why is it you're here? Did the Lord request you, or did the Lady take pity upon you?" you asked in a calm, yet curious tone, snatching up a blue and gray ribbon, wrapping it around your bun before tying the ribbon at the bottom, letting the ends hang behind your neck before you turned and looked back at the maid.

"W-well… the Lord… did, if that's what you're asking. I came to the manor looking for work, and after some time I was accepted as a maid. This is my first time helping one of our guests, personally," Kyla told you, causing you to pause for a moment before you gave her a light smile.

"You're doing a good job, Kyla," you told her, before you stood to your feet, sighing to yourself as you began to make your way to the door, "but now, why don't you show me to the dining room? I'm still not familiar with this place."

"Of course! But," she continued, holding up a pair of gloves from the top of one of the dressers, "don't you want to wear some gloves, ma'am?"

"… Do I need to?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, and she quickly shook her head.

"N-no! I suppose not, but it would be… strange, I guess," she stated, but you simply gave her a smile over your shoulder before you made your way out of the bedroom, with the maid rushing behind you.

You have no doubt in your mind the girl will be back in the guest room, tidying up the place, considering you made it an absolute mess. Normally, you'd make your bed and organize your belongings, but right now the thought of food was on your mind…

And you're going to have to put your best foot forward, if you want to keep up with these mannerisms.

Hopefully they have some strong tea… or coffee. Coffee would be great, right about now.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Good morning, Clara," you heard someone calling out your voice the moment you walked into the dining room, but your feet automatically began to make your way to the delicious smell of strong coffee, causing a snicker to leave the man's breath. "… Say, good morning."

"Don't treat me like a child, God, geeze," you scoffed in disgust, sitting beside the Undertaker at the empty table, but you smiled meekly as the cup of coffee that was in front of the man was suddenly in front of you, warm and piping hot, but you simply grasped the cup, bringing it closer to your body as you held it close to your person. "… Thanks."

"Pah! You're lucky the young earl knows I enjoy coffee in the morning, or else you'd be _coffee less~_" he snickered, only for you to bring the beverage to your lips, inhaling deeply, before taking a cautious sip, tasting the flavor. "… _Helloooo~?_ –"

"Shut up. I'm not awake enough for your idiotacy," you snarled, casting him a dark, irritated glare, but he only grinned, casually snickering every so often underneath his breath as he watched you sipping, and slowly you turned to glare, again. "… **What?**"

"Is that a word? Idiotacy? Don't you mean idiocy?"

"I just made it up. My God, how can you be so awake right now?" you growled lowly, but he simply smiled, letting out a content hum while you scoffed in annoyance.

"_Don't you know~? _Us reapers –"

"Are bat shit crazy because you wake me up at random points throughout the night, and then sleep all day. Seriously, you must be half bat. Or owl. It's the only explanation," you grumbled, only to feel a slight pat on your head as you snarled, causing the man to chuckle lightly before he stood up, leaving the table for a moment, before returning.

You sat in silence as you sipped at your coffee, watching as a butler came from the kitchen, apologizing for… you suppose not getting you coffee, but you simply stared, simmering in your own irritation for being woken up in the first place, and the Undertaker snickered. "Don't worry, dear boy. My apprentice isn't a morning person."

"You aren't either, you ass hat," you scoffed, the butler giving you a shocked look at your 'indecent behavior', but Undertaker simply smiled, thanking the boy for another cup of coffee, before the two of you sat in silence, sipping away as you waited for breakfast.

Man… this coffee is strangely good…

"… Better?" you heard Undertaker ask, after noticing you drank half of the cup, already, but you shrugged in response, and he smirked as he continued to sip at his own cup. "Perhaps I spoiled you, my dear."

"Spoil? What's the point in waking up early if you don't even open the store early? Duh," you huffed, taking a sip, or rather a gulp this time, before placing the coffee back down on the table, and finally letting out a much needed yawn. "… So, how did you sleep?"

"Just lovely, dearie –"

"And you got woken up, I'm guessing," you continued, but he simply snickered in response.

"Some _poor~ boy_ did the job, but I was already up when he arrived," he told you, but you simply cast him a tired, but interested look. "… What?"

"You were up. This early. Why?" you scoffed, but he smiled lightly in response.

"_Just thinking~_, is all. Nothing to worry your pretty little head," he grinned, but you only rolled your eyes and scoffed, your face leaning closer to the table as you closed your eyes, close to falling back asleep… until you heard the Undertaker snap his fingers right next to your ear, causing you to react instinctively.

And aim a punch right at his face.

He caught your hand, laughing at your growling, only causing you to snarl deeper. "Ass! Let me be!"

"_Giahahahaha~!_" he laughed in response, keeping his grip on your hand while you tried to hit his face with your other, but he easily grasped your other hand.

"You are acting like a child, my God!" you huffed, swiping your hands out of his grip, only for your face to fall onto the table as you let out a soft, low whine. "… I need more coffee."

"_Now, now~_. Drink too much caffeine and you'll be sleepy every day," he stated, but you simply kept your face on the table, too emotionally drained to care, right now. With a smirk, he swapped your cup with his own, which was nearly full, still, causing you to turn your head and give him a confused, but intrigued look in response. "_Only one more~_"

"… I'm not a baby bird. I don't need you to feed me… Where is everyone, anyways? Why are we here and no one else is –"

But your question was answered for you as you heard the familiar noise of children shouting down the hallway, making their way towards the dining room, and slowly you lifted your head off of the table, putting a hand onto your hand as you leaned onto the table, your other hand grasping the warm dark brown liquid as you sipped, or more like gulping for that much needed caffeine. "Lady Lara, it's terrible!" you heard the oldest twin cry out as he ran into the dining room, right up to you as you flinched at how loud his voice was becoming. "Mother and brother –"

"They're both feeling sick today," Vincent explained as he walked into the room, giving the two of you a meek smile. "I apologize for the inconvenience. I know you wanted to spend time with my little boys, and –"

"What exactly are they sick with?" you decided to ask, the man giving you an unsure smirk while you sipped your coffee, sighing to yourself at the warm bitter taste before you placed the cup down, patting the boy's head before he could start jumping and yelling in your face.

"My youngest. He has the same illness as his mother –"

"That asthma problem, right?" you stated, giving Undertaker a look as he smirked and nodded, while Vincent gave him an accusing glare in response. "Don't get so mad, Vincent. Your wifie told me she had problems and apologized for any inconvenience that may cause."

"Oh… If Rachel told you, then –"

"Just how severe are the symptoms?" you asked, watching as Vincent sighed to himself, making his way to his side of the table to sit down. You let the boy crawl up onto your lap, plopping him down while you sat up in your chair, trying to look enthusiastic.

Sadly, you were failing, and you just looked irritated and grouchy.

"Sometimes Rachel becomes so ill she cannot get out of bed. She gets a nasty cough, and can be bedridden for days. At worst, weeks. Just a few months ago, my youngest displayed the same symptoms. He was bedridden for a week and a half. Luckily my sister in law, Baroness Burnett, was at the manor, during that time. She's a doctor and knows how to handle such conditions," he stated, but then his head raised as he gave you a cautious look. "Why do you ask, Lady Clara?"

"Well… if I may?" I decided to ask, looking at Undertaker as if you were asking him for permission to continue, and you noticed the boy's eyes blinking, wide and curious, before you turned back to Vincent to give him a light smile. "Sadly, from what I understand it, asthma has no real cure. However, there are a lot of people who have this disease and can still go about their days, normally. If your wife continued to have the symptoms of asthma into her adult years, she must have, a, been outside and running around too often, or b, never fully recovered when she was a child. If you take care of yourself and use preventive matters when you're still young, then you're less likely to have asthma related attacks. At least, it won't be every other day and instead, only once in a while.

"Now," you smirked, holding up the boy's hands and playfully putting them up onto the table, causing the boy to giggle as you continued with your explanation, "causes for asthma related attacks is dust and pollen, mold, strong chemicals, and cold air. Sometimes, staying indoors for too long, in the cold, can cause a reaction. Going outside and soaking in the sunlight for at least a few moments is perfectly acceptable. However, I know some personal tricks that have helped keep my problems at bay," you told them, giving Undertaker a smirk at the unsure look he was casting you, but before he could say much you heard Vincent make an obvious comment.

"Wait. You have asthma as well? You look healthy, Lady Clara," he stated, bluntly, and you gave Vincent a devious smirk in response.

"Of course. You wouldn't know if you were just looking at me. One can develop similar symptoms and still go about their every day lives. However, since the age of four, I had problems with breathing. I had to take it easy until I could figure out how my body worked. And, my asthma related problems are probably mild compared to the problems your wife and son have," you told him, pausing for a moment before looking over at Undertaker. "Should I?"

"Should you what?" Undertaker responded with a smirk, but you gave him an expectant look as he sighed in response. "… It's up to you, child."

"Fine," you replied, giving him an irritated look before looking back over to Vincent, smiling in reply. "Firstly, if you've already gone through the task of cleaning up the manor, making sure there's no dust and pollen lingering about, and especially mold problems, then the next step is changing the food you eat. Fatty and sugary foods can make the symptoms worse. I'm not saying don't have dessert all the time, but cut back on your intake. Eat fruits, vegetables, and meat more often. Fish is better then most meat to eat, but if you cannot have fish all the time then that's understandable. But fish is the healthiest meat to have, if you make sure it's thoroughly cooked. Not all seafood is good for you, but maybe your saturating your meals with too much starch. Fatty foods. Or maybe it's too sugary. I don't know. Just avoid adding sugar and fat, if you don't need it. I use oil instead of butter and lard, and if I have to use butter and lard I just reuse it into the next dish. That way, I'm not eating too much fats and my meal tastes pretty delicious.

"But if all else fails, having your little sick patients eat light soup is the best option, until they're better. Have them drink plenty of water… Oh! And while this trick doesn't work for every case, I drink coffee every day for a reason. The caffeine will help keep my lungs pumping, but the tests that I've read and endured personally, it helps prevent my asthma related attacks. They started making me drink coffee when I was… six, and it helped with my prevention. Sadly, no cure for asthma, but there some tricks to prevent a rough cough and shortness of breath from occurring.

"But we all die anyways. I've outlived people who were perfectly healthy, so nothing is for certain," you finished with a smirk, poking the boy's cheek before setting him onto the ground, but he tugged at your dress, getting your attention. "Yes?"

"Does that stuff really work?" the boy asked, eyes wide and full of worry, but you smirked, patting the boy on top of the head.

"Over time, perhaps. But bedrest when you get sick is key, though when it comes to me, even I have to walk around after being trapped in bed for more then eight hours. In fact, why don't we come up with a fun little lunch for them?" you told the boy, his eyes blinking, curiously, before he rushed to the other side of the room and began to tug on his father's clothes.

"Father, can we?"

"I don't see why not," Vincent chuckled, causing you to smile lightly, but you felt Undertaker nudge your arm to get your attention.

"_Nothing about the medicine~_" Undertaker asked in a whisper, so low and quiet you hoped the other two didn't try to listen in.

"_Nope._ Besides," you continued in a louder tone of voice, "most of that is caffeine, anyways. I'm not saying a boy who's, what, five or whatever should have a lot of caffeine. It could stunt his growth if we're not careful, but maybe half a cup?" you stated, before looking back across the table and giving Vincent a smile, "and if you're going to give coffee to your little patients, I'd say one cup for the adult, half a cup for the child. And no added sugar. That'll defeat the purpose, but you can add cream. Or milk. Just not too much. Coffee is bitter, but terribly addicting," you scoffed, reaching for your cup and drinking some more, again. "I know I could suggest just drinking black tea, straight, without anything added, but tea doesn't have as much caffeine as coffee, and if you can get coffee beans for the Undertaker, then you must know how to get more beans for your own family. _Am I right, Vincent~?_" you smirked deviously at him, causing him to sigh as he scooted his son's chair closer to the table.

"You're correct… but how can I believe your words? You're no doctor," he stated, but you shrugged your shoulders as you sat back into your chair, sighing to yourself as you continued.

"You could try a lot of experiments and hope for the right results, or you could trust someone who has asthma, too. At least, that's what they told me it is. There are different types of asthma too, so maybe my way won't be very helpful, but I'll have you know I was thinking of being a doctor, at some point in my life. And regardless what you nobles think or not, the funeral business is within the medical field. You're just dealing with the deceased, not the living. My brother _**insisted~**_ I study everything medical, and where I came from, you need to know how someone dies just as much as how they were living. Most of the time, they go hand in hand… You don't have to take my advice, but I would suggest looking for mold in the walls. Even if it isn't pertaining to asthma, it never hurts to look around. Mold can cause a lot of different problems, over time," you told him, sipping on your coffee casually, before you put your head back into your hand, leaning into the table as you sighed to yourself.

"Also, what always triggers my problems is the pollen in the air. That could be why they're suddenly having problems. If I hadn't grown used to my own problems, I'd be coughing and sitting in bed, right about now," you honestly stated, as if your observation was the obvious thing in the world, and you sipped on your coffee, pausing as you looked to the boy and gave him a light smile. "So? You twins wanted me to talk about the medical field, right? And since it'll be the two of us for a while, maybe we could make lunch? Or brunch?... Whatever you call it," you stated, causing Vincent to lightly chuckle.

"_What did you have in mind~?_" he asked, but you smirked back in return.

"It's simple, once you think about it. Though, if you don't have the ingredients, I'll improvise. I get how irritated a head cook can get if you invade their personal space, but we'll make things simple. Little Ciel and I can make my family 'make me feel better' soup, and if you have any fruit, especially oranges, we'll serve those for lunch… Maybe have a light salad, if you have lettuce and other greens. Just throw that into a bowl, but don't add dressing. Especially ranch dressing. I don't know if you have ranch dressing, but if it's an oil based garnish then maybe that can be added. Just a tad, for flavor.

"Tea, of course. Maybe something herbal based. And if we're having something sweet, something light. Like flat cookies. Nothing like cake or brownies or whatever. And we should have this all outside," you finished, with a smirk at your own thought process. "We'll have them come outside once it's all prepared, and once we're done eating, they can go back inside. If you have a gazebo or a canopy… or an umbrella or something, we'll set that outside, too. That way, they won't be directly in the sunlight, but they can get warm and soak in some English sunlight. Who knows when it'll get rainy, again," you grinned, but then you paused as you noticed the earl wasn't exactly giving you a response. "… So? Do you want to do that, or should we just skip all of the extravagance?"

"… Must it be oranges? I don't know if we have any," he responded, causing you to smirk.

"Lemons, maybe? Or limes?"

"But wouldn't that be gross to eat on their own? –"

"Yes, yes it is," you chuckled to yourself, "but I suggested oranges because of their acidic properties. It's not as… intense as a lemon or lime is, and if you don't have oranges, the cook could hopefully make a dressing for the salad with a touch of lemon juice added. Or lime. A little bit goes a long way," you grinned. "Then, what fruits do you have?"

"Mainly berries, right now. I believe we have an apple orchard or two close to perfection, but –"

"Then we'll have a little berry dish. Something simple; maybe even mix it into the salad? Or, just cut up the apples into easy slices to eat. We don't need to eat much. The patients are still sick, and won't want to eat a lot anyways. We just need to make sure they get a bit of everything. Greens, fruits, some acid, and lastly the tea. That'll be important.

"Dessert, not so much," you chuckled, and then you heard Undertaker chuckling next to you.

"I didn't know I had such an amazing cook," he giggled, but you rolled your eyes at him.

"Well, when you bring home nothing but eggs, hunks of meat, and bread, I can't exactly work with just that. But I get it. You can't buy fancy stuff every day, and –"

"_At least I know~, now_," he grinned, but you gave him a pout before turning your gaze back to Vincent.

"… If you're busy, you don't have to help –"

"No, no. I want to help! This sounds like fun," Vincent chuckled, turning his attention to his son. "Right, Ciel?"

"Yes! Everyone is going to be so happy!" he cheered, but you chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck.

"M-maybe. This isn't a cure or anything –"

"Nonsense! This'll be fun. I'll have the staff know what we're planning," Vincent stated, kissing the top of his boy's head and telling him to stay in his seat before he left, for a moment, while you gave Undertaker a tired look. He simply smiled lightly in response, giving you a playful nudge while you gave him a suspicious glance.

Why… hasn't he been making sly comments, like usual?

What's up with him?


	22. Phantomhive Arc: The Family 3

**A/N: HEY GUYS! I finally have some energy and time to review another chapter. This upcoming week is going to be rather hectic, so if I don't post anything for a while I do apologize. If I do, then it'll probably only be one chapter, that day. But today, or rather Saturday and Sunday, I hope to post a few chapters… at least 1-2 tonight, and then more tomorrow. I've written a lot of chapters, so I need to start posting some of them.**

**And since a few more chapters have passed, I'd like to THANK you guys for following and liking my story. Especially to **LordofWhore** [wow what a name], **mayfire21**, **nancywheeler**, and **AnimeLoverJS**. Finally, I've begun to notice that here are several readers reading my story, and I cannot help but be enthusiastic about it! And I especially want to thank those who have commented me, personally [you know who you are], and I have enjoyed talking with you guys. It's nice to talk to the readers of the stories I'm involved in writing. It gives me a reason to keep going with the story I wish to create!**

**Lastly, because of some insight one of you guys told me, there have been a few tweaks to this story that I wasn't going to do, but decided to do anyways. And thanks to them, now I know why fake/our Ciel likes honey with milk, and why, from a different story I'm currently reading, a particular Phantomhive enjoys honey, too. I did try to do some research when it came to asthma, and while I don't have a personal experience with the ailment my father has it, but I'm not the biggest expert. So, if something sounds terribly wrong, you can tell me about it. I won't get mad. But, then again, for Clara, the whole 'curing/making people feel better' stuff is a by trial and error. While it'd be easy to just give Rachel or the younger twin an inhaler, that'd just make it too easy.**

**Maybe later, in the story. I was thinking of having an incident where that type of situation may occur, but it may not. **

**So… yeah! Anyways, THANK YOU GUYS for continuing to read this story. I hope you guys are enjoying your weekend, and hopefully I'll have another chapter posted soon!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Once again, I'm very sorry about this. I didn't want to take up your space or –"

"Not to worry! I am more curious to see what you plan on making," the much older woman smiled from behind you, and you nudged the little Phantomhive boy as he sat up high on a stool, watching you with a curious gaze while the woman glanced at the two of you, before continuing. "But, isn't it improper for a gentleman, let alone our young lord, to be cooking like this? There are maids and servants for a reason –"

"Let me put it this way, what if his little fiancée would like something cooked, and then he does a terrible job? Women love a man who cooks," you smirked over at the woman, before continuing. "It's nice for your man to do something for you, every once in a while. Besides, if he doesn't like to cook, he'll know that he's not very good at it ahead of time… Am I right Ciel?"

"Yes'um!" the boy exclaimed, giggling as he threw up his hands, and the head cook shook her head at you, but you ignored her silent remark.

But, under orders of her lord or just out of the goodness of her little heart, she and her helpers let you have part of the stovetop, and a nearby counter, as you showed the Phantomhive boy your super special recipe. Honestly, it's not too special, but it reminds you of home. Of your mum. Of the days when she'd make you her special homemade soup to make you feel better, after almost coughing up a lung. It took you a while to learn the recipe on your own… but, after a lot of searching through her old belongings, and actually finding an old recipe, you can officially say this 'make you feel better' soup is a family recipe.

And while you could tell the head cook wasn't exactly pleased with your presence in the kitchen, at least she seemed to be listening to what you wanted for this little lunch… or maybe, once again, it was her lord demanding her to make particular dishes, but whatever. You'll take this win and hopefully, this won't be a terrible disaster.

"Now, help me plop the onions, carrots, and chopped lettuce into the pot, hmm?" you asked the boy, and he giggled as he held up his hands, waiting for you to pick him up into your grasp with ease as you picked up your cutting board, handing the boy a wooden spoon while you hovered over the pot. "Now… _be careful~_. Go gently… it's okay to spill a little," you told him, letting the boy scrape most of the food into your pot, hearing the veggies sizzling and mixing in with the already browning meat, and you licked your lips at the heavenly smell while you gently placed the boy back onto the stool, before scraping the last bits into the pot and giving him a smirk. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes! This smells good!"

"Great, but you cannot eat it yet," you told him, poking his nose before you let the boy hand you the spoon, and you began to mix up your food in the pot, humming lightly to yourself as you paused, waiting for the food to cook a bit more, before you reached for a much smaller pot, which had your broth mixture. Making your broth was a bit harder, considering you usually just buy chicken broth at the store, in a can, but you hopefully figured it out.

And strangely enough, Kyla was there to give you a bit of advice before she wandered off to do some other sort of task.

"… Okay. Ready, boy?"

"Ready!" he giggled, though you bet he didn't exactly know what he should be ready for, but you picked up your pot of lukewarm broth, pouring the contents of the pot into the much bigger pot, and the sizzling noise quickly turned into a slow hiss… and then a slight boil. "W-woh!"

"Yep. Woh. Now, we mix," you continued, mixing the contents around, making sure the meat and vegetables were equally dispersed before you reached for some spices, adding them to your bowl. Slowly you scooped a bit of the liquid into your spoon, taking a sip, before you licked your lips. "Ah. Perfect. Want to try? It's a tad cold," you told him, scooping a small spoon full and holding out your hand underneath; the boy opening his mouth and gulping down the soup.

"… Good!"

"Good. Really?" you chuckled, wiping the spoon on a nearby rag that you were using just in case your hands felt a bit too sticky, and you mixed the spoon back into the soup, before you grabbed a lid, placing it upon the pot, and letting out a sigh. "Now, we wait."

"Wait? Why?"

"Cooking takes time, and if you rush you could end up with a disaster. Cooking is a lot like a science experiment. You need to measure out your ingredients, add the contents together in the perfect order, and sometimes you end up with terrible results. But, that's part of the fun. And what I love about cooking is that it's _delicious~ fun_," you grinned at him, before you took your empty pot, cutting board, and knives, and you began to make your way over to the sink…

Only to be stopped by another cook. "Ah. Miss, I can do that for you."

"N-no need –"

"Let me. You are our guest," the woman insisted, taking your dirty dishes from you, and you paused, watching the dishes leave, before you sighed and made your way back over to the boy.

"… Sad?" Ciel asked in a curious tone, but you simply gave him a smirk.

"Irritated. Not sad," you chuckled at him, your gaze falling back on your soup, before you looked back at Ciel. "Being patient is hard, I know, but think of it this way, we'll have something good for your brother and mother to eat."

"True!" he giggled, sitting up in the stool as he continued, "So… do you like Uncle Undertaker or not?"

"Like, how?" you smirked at his question, causing him to pout.

"Like, like. Like, how mum and daddy like. Are you going to have babies?" he asked, his eyes wide and expecting an answer.

You could have reached in a lot of different ways. Shock, irritation, embarrassment.

But…

You chuckled, before laughing lightly to yourself, causing the boy to give you a pout in response. "I am being serious!"

"I know, I know," you giggled, putting a hand to your face before you sighed. "Let me guess, it's because of your mother talking about Undertaker and I last night, _hmmm~?_"

"Yes?" he questioned you, but you smirked and shook your head.

"Well… if I tell you the truth… you have to _**promise~**_ to keep it a secret, okay? You twins need to _keep this a secret~~_" you continued, putting a hand to your lips, and he giggled as he copied your motion.

"Yes! I-I promise," he grinned, causing you to pause, before you sighed and scratched the back of your neck.

"Hmm… I think it will be weird to have a romantic relationship with my boss," you began, pausing for a moment before you gave the boy a meek smile. "It won't matter if I like him that way or not. People would judge us, and I don't want to shame his good name."

"But, do you like him?" Ciel asked in a curious tone.

"… Yes," you answered, truthfully, before putting a finger on his lips and giving him a smirk, "I like him, but love him? That's different. A bit more complicated."

"Oh?" he blinked, confused, and you grinned lightly at his confusion.

"You can like many people, dear Phantomhive. Old, young, friends and coworkers. But loving someone is much different then liking them… Would you do anything to see your twin happy?"

"Ah… y-yes?"

"And your mother and father. Do you love them? Want them to be happy, as well?"

"Yes. Of course –"

"Loving another means you put their needs above your own. No matter how much it will inconvenience you… you do it because you love them. There doesn't need to be an explanation. Love just… happens," you smirked, patting the top of the boy's head, "and I'm sure your parents can tell you what love is. Okay?"

"Yes'um," he agreed, and you patted his head before going back to your pot, mixing up the food before going back to looking at him with a grin on your face. Your grin caused the boy to smile in response, giggling at your smirk.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Oh… my God, this is extravagant," you couldn't help but respond, eyes wide in utter shock at the beautiful tower of freshly cut fruit and cute looking sandwiches.

You've been to a little tea house before, offered hors d'oeuvres on a plate, like you're some sort of fake noble having a lovely little brunch with a group of friends, but this… "… I'm… shocked. I really am. You didn't have to go all out like this."

"What sort of cook would I be, if I couldn't create a lovely lunch in the garden, perfect for an earl? Us, servants at the Phantomhive estate can do anything our master asks of us."

"Y-yes… obviously you can," you responded, still recovering from your shock, until you felt Ciel tugging on your skirt, lifting up his arms, and with a smile you picked him up, causing the boy to giggle and then look at the tower of food, and letting out an 'aaah!'.

"It's perfect! Mummy is going to love this!"

"Thank you, my little lord," the head cook smiled, causing you to sigh as you scratched the back of your neck. "… I'm sure your soup will be delicious, my lady."

"Perhaps… Look," you scoffed, causing the boy to blink in confusion at your suddenly stern attitude, and the woman gave you a slightly unsure look at the way you switched, from shocked into strict in a moment's notice, "I feel as if we got off on the wrong foot, here. I'm not trying to stomp into your kitchen and take over. Besides… I just want Lady Rachel and her son to get better. I do owe her, at least my gratitude. You don't have to one-up me on this. I just wanted to make a meal that these little asthmatics could enjoy."

"… I-I… I'm sorry if I acted rudely, Lady Graves –"

"Doesn't matter. Even if you despise me or not, I can see talent and skilled preparation. This is better than I could have ever hoped… So, thank you," you finished, giving the woman a slight smile, before you turned your attention to the boy in your arms. "Now, why don't we leave this to the experts and see what your father is up to, _hmm~?_"

"Yes!" the young Phantomhive cheered, excited to finally leave the kitchen, and you cast one more last look at the head cook before making your way up the stairs, then down a flight of stairs into the garden. You let the boy go the moment your shoes stepped onto the cobblestone walkway, and he giggled and ran off, probably in the direction his father will be found in.

But, you walked a bit slower, taking in the scenery around you.

It looks… ten times better then you could have ever dreamed. Like you were stepping into a fairy tale. Sure, you've seen more enchanting places, but a location in the human world, not created by supernatural hands… Yes… this was perfect.

Absolute perfection.

You couldn't stop yourself as you came across tulips, reds and whites, but your gaze fell upon a lilac colored tulip, and you stopped, admiring the bundle of purple flowers with a content smile playing upon your lips. How could… this place become destroyed? It's so… calm and peaceful here. Lively, quaint… perfect.

If you could just stay human, you'd spend your days here, admiring the flowers, enjoying the company of the Phantomhives… even if, one day, their perfect little world will come crashing down. Destroyed. But…

Why do you think you cannot find this sort of… peace?

"… Lady Clara?" you heard a voice, so soft and sweet you couldn't stop yourself from smiling lightly as you turned, acknowledging the figure who was approaching before you continued to admire the garden.

"Hello, Rachel. How have you been feeling?"

"Better," she told you, putting a smile on her face, "but dear Vincent told me that you set up a little lunch for us?"

"With the help of your cooking staff, yes," you smiled at her, though your smile seemed to wean as you continued. "It took a few hours to prepare, but I think the boys are ready for you to show up."

"… Is something wrong?" she asked in a curious tone, but you slowly shook your head, giving her a light smile in return.

"I'm… fine. Just thinking," you explained, causing the woman to give you a light smile before approaching, standing beside you by the flowerbeds as she let a giggle leave her breath, and you couldn't help but give her a curious glance. "Is something the matter?"

"Nothing. You just remind me of my husband. That contemplative look of concern, of his," she grinned, causing you to smile lightly at her words, but she continued, "but, I must say… I feel as if I'm at fault."

"What do you mean? –"

"My questions. About Undertaker and yourself. I must be the cause of your bad mood," she responded, but you chuckled meekly to yourself.

"Actually, not exactly… Though I will admit, your particular questions from yesterday have made me think about my future… if I should care about it or not," you replied, cryptically, causing the woman to pout at you.

"W-whatever do you mean? Of course you should care about your future."

"Sorry. Maybe I should rephrase it… If… staying with the Undertaker for all this time was because I wanted to or because it was convenient," you explained, pausing for a moment before you turned to her, giving her a light smile in return. "At this point, maybe I overstayed my welcome? If people are starting to think I stay for entirely different reasons."

"But, if you were to leave where would you go?" she asked, but you shrugged your shoulders.

"Wander, probably. As long as I have a say in the matter, it doesn't really matter," you stated, and the woman sighed, before letting out a cough into her gloved hand, but you smoothly produced a white handkerchief from your dress.

"Ah. Thank you."

"Of course," you responded, letting the woman cough into the clothe and gather herself, before she handed the handkerchief back, folded up, and you smoothly placed it back into the folds of your dress.

"… If I may be honest?" Rachel began, causing you to give her a look, then a nod, and she smiled meekly as she continued with a sigh, "I like watching the two of you. Lord Undertaker has always been… aloof, but around you he'll participate in our conversations. No matter how mundane they are. I used to think he didn't like me very much, but I believe, these days, he has a hard time talking to other people. It would be a shame to lose that side of him," she stated, causing you to sigh to yourself, rub your arm, as you stared off at the brightly colored flowers. "… But, just because I hope you two can continue to stay together doesn't mean it should happen. If you believe you need to leave, I understand. Maybe you weren't as happy with him as you originally thought?"

"Well… I mean, I enjoy Undertaker. I don't have to try too hard into making him laugh, we enjoy similar things, and I usually don't have to try… to like him. It's not forced. I don't have to try too hard with him… It's nice," you smiled meekly to yourself, "because I've had relationships where I do have to make an effort, and I never feel like I'm gaining anything in return…

"Which makes me worry, maybe I'm not giving back, enough," you decided to say, causing the woman to let out a light huff.

"You shouldn't think that way. From what I see, you both enjoy each other, equally, for your own reasons. And from what Vincent has told me, you two argue, but that doesn't mean you resent him afterward or you begin to despise his mere existence. You let go of whatever negative emotions you have towards one another and learn to cohabitate… Do you feel unfulfilled, perhaps? Could that be the problem?"

"It's just… considering the life I had to live before this… it's just weird to be this relaxed," you decided to honestly say, before you gave her a meek smile. "I'm used to being worried, all the time. Worried something bad will happen, and it usually does. That my little happy bubble will pop, eventually. Nothing lasts forever, but I guess I'm holding back anxiety… Fighting for survival has changed who I used to be into someone I just… cannot dare to look at, right now," you finished, with a frown on your face, but she meekly smiled in return.

"You don't have to live that way anymore, Lady Lara. You can live the way you wish –"

"And that's the problem. I have no idea **what** I want to be doing… I'm sorry. I'm being rather dreary today."

"It's okay," she chuckled lightly, sighing as she smiled to herself, "I'm used to this. Especially today, of all days. I… may have had hidden agendas when I asked for Undertaker and yourself to come over to visit, especially this week… Vincent needs something to take his mind off of his own pain," she decided to tell you, causing you to give her a curious look as she continued meekly. "Besides, I had a feeling Lord Undertaker would show up, anyways. I decided to extend the invitation to yourself."

"… Then… they're being all gloomy because of the death of Vincent's mother? Countess Claudia, right?"

"Yes," she sighed, giving you a meek smile before she turned and gave you a slightly confused look. "I didn't know you knew about her."

"A bit," you chuckled nervously, deciding that you didn't want to go into too many details. "You can blame Undertaker for most of my knowledge, though."

"I… never got to meet her," Rachel continued, her eyes thoughtfully looking at a particular set of flowers off in the distance, making you wonder why, but you kept your silence as she continued somberly. "Though, I doubt she would have approved of our marriage… I'm no fool. I know what Vincent does for the Queen, but… pretending to be ignorant… makes him so happy," she decided to say, causing you to glance at her. A skeptical look overlooking your features as you looked the woman over.

But… something in your mind told you to console her, if just a little bit. It's not like you can be entirely honest with her, but…

"… Do you want to know what I think?" you decided to say, taking a step closer to the flowerbed as you stared off into the distance, noticing the green rolling hills and bright sunlight. "… I'm sure that Claudia would have been ecstatic to have a daughter in law like yourself."

"W-what makes you say that? –"

"I may not have been here for too long, but you make Vincent happy. And, you gave him two beautiful baby boys. Also, you're willing to put up with his crazy antics, no matter how annoying he could become. And if you know about his life as a Watchdog… that only shows how strong of a woman you actually are, Lady Rachel," you stated, slowly turning to give her a light smile, noticing the unsure, tearful look in her gaze, causing you to grin and lightly pat her shoulder before taking a step to the side. "The underworld knows more about the Phantomhive name then high society, if I'm going to be honest. Perhaps I don't understand everything that transpired between you and Vincent, and why he picked you specifically, but I can tell that he actually cares. And you want to know what I think?

"He probably wanted a lady such as yourself because you're far too kind of a woman for him. And, he can have a family and actually find some happiness in his life. Being a Watchdog… I'm sure it's difficult," you told her, before letting out a light chuckle and pointing behind you, "So, enough about that. Why don't we head over for lunch?"

"Of course," she giggled, accepting your offer with a bit more enthusiasm then you were expecting.

But the shocked look on her face was worth the hassle.

"Mummy!" you heard the older twin cheering, running up to his mother and grabbing her legs. "Look, look! I made the soup!"

"Yes we did," you responded with a smirk of your own, walking over to the nicely arranged outdoor set, your eyes gazing over the work with a critical eye before you made your way over to the much younger twin, patting the top of his head as you gave him a light smile. "How are you feeling?"

"O-oh… 'kay," he mumbled, letting out a rough cough, but you handed him a cup of water before calmly making your way over to Undertaker, who was solemnly watching the scene unfold in front of him.

The excitement on the sick little Phantomhives and how proud the young earl was to show off to his little wifie. But, what fully encapsulated his attention was a particular woman sitting down in a chair beside his own, sighing to herself before she turned and gave him a slight smirk.

"So… do you think this was too over the top or what?"

"_Hmm~_… No. Just perfect," he grinned, causing you to lightly smile as you looked at the Phantomhives growing more and more excited, while you simply sighed lightly in response. "… Something the matter?"

"No… No, I just… realized what date it is, today," you decided to say, causing the man to give you a curious look.

"_Oooh~?_ And what date is that?" he asked, but you remained quiet. A contemplative look overcoming your features as you put two and two together.

It's… your birthday today… isn't it. Would that mean you're officially twenty, now?

Hmm… you're not sure how you feel about that. Becoming a year older. Officially. Considering you jumped back in time, you're still not quite sure, but… if it's the date of Claudia's death… then that must mean…

It's June 13th… right?


	23. Phantomhive Arc: The Past and Future 1

**A/N: Honestly, I wasn't going to post this. For me, it is about 4am in the morning, but I decided that, meh, I might as well. I will like to post more chapters, today.**

**I will say this. Here comes more supernatural aspects of our young little Clara. Even as a human, she is able to see certain things, but around the time of her birthday, those abilities intensify almost to the point of her having her reaper half fully awakened and trained, again. But, seeing and doing the things she can do only shows up because of her birthday. Plus, she's in the Phantomhive manor, so her communing with the dead was bound to happen.**

**Anyways, ENJOY your day! And I'll talk back with you guys later!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You closed your eyelids, tightly, only to snap them open and sigh, tiredly to yourself. Your eyes drift to the closed curtains with a slight pout on your lips, and you rolled over, curling up into the bedsheets and closing your eyelids once more, trying to get some sleep.

But sadly, sleep wasn't going to come to you… tonight. It was aggravating, and you're actually trying, but… nothing. You just can't sleep.

Your mind feels too wired to sleep, right now.

You decided to give up on getting any sort of rest. You'll have to deal with the consequences later, but hey. You are half reaper. These sudden bursts of energy were something you've become used to. But… tonight, there's a different reason why you're so awake, and you know why.

You didn't want to deal with it, right now, but even if you try, you're just going to wake up and keep thinking about it.

Today, or rather tonight… is your birthday. The night you were born. And… you're twenty, now. Regardless what time period you're in… July 13th is officially your birthday. The day you were born… the night you were born. And…

The night that Claudia Phantomhive died. 11:27, before midnight.

She was just as awake as you are, right now… but… do you really want to deal with this, right now? You were feeling so happy…

You sighed, scoffing to yourself before you began to roll out of bed, making your way to the closet filled with the clothes you brought over, and then some. You swear, Vincent ordered more clothes and stuck them in there, just for you… Sure, that sounds nice, but you don't want to feel indebted to him.

You already feel that way towards the Undertaker. You don't need two debts to deal with.

Throwing off your nightgown, you grabbed a pair of pants, slipping on some warm socks, and a collared shirt. Tying a belt around your pant belt loops to keep your pants up, you slipped on your clunky mortician boots, making sure your boots were laced securely, before reaching for a long black feminine trench coat. You probably looked like a mess, but that didn't exactly bother you.

Not right now. Not with the… memories echoing in your mind. The screaming… the fear. The anger…

You rubbed at your tired face, grabbing a ribbon just in case you decided to put your hair up, and after pocketing the fabric, you carefully made your way out of the guest room, gently closing the door before you began your quiet trek down the long hallways. Luckily for you, not a soul seemed to be awake.

A living soul, rather.

You knew where you were going, what you needed to do, regardless if you didn't want to confront… her, but if you don't then you're never going to sleep, for as long as you stay at this residency. So, stalking down the stairs, looking around to make sure no one was following you, you carefully opened a back door, leading out into the garden, and you let the door close with a 'click'… before you left, your footsteps quickening now that you were outside and didn't have to worry about the hardwood and tiled floors.

Down the cobblestone walkway you stepped. Past the luscious summer garden and beautiful orchard. Past the storage buildings you walked, to the other side of the estate…

Until you came to an abrupt stop, realizing you were out of breath, and you shakily breathed in the cool, damp night air. In front of you stood rather modest gravestones. Each marked with the name 'Phantomhive', for the most part. Only one or two didn't have a Phantomhive last name, for one reason or another… but most of your ancestors are buried here. At least, until 1881. After that, you noticed, only a few more grave stones will be placed, one more row, before this site is officially abandoned to the elements. To be overrun by nature itself.

But… what made your eyes glance up from the gravestones, from the very last marker, was a particular ghost, now standing in the middle of the small cemetery plot, its face looking towards the dimmed moonlight. Graced in a gray dress, though… you could see past the dimness at the faded blood that coated her clothes, her hair tied back in a prominent, proper bun, and… her slim figure… tall stature… and familiar features.

"Hello… Ghost Lady," you decided to say, a slight nervousness in your tone, but you let in a deep, tired breath of air, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Seeing the dead like this… can unnerve any human… but you're no normal human. And **her**…

She's more familiar to you then breathing in air.

"_It's been a while, child~"_ the ghost spoke, turning to smirk in your general direction, but you saw nothing in her eyes. No emotions. No feelings. A blank… stare… covered by the moon that was beginning to reveal itself in the sky. Waxing, rather then waning… but it's still not fully there.

"R-right… then you know," you mumbled, and you watched her let out a scoff, her body drifting to sit upon a gravestone, casually crossing one leg on top of the other as if she was sitting in a chair.

"_I see it all… the past… present… future… That is the way with us spirits… of the dead,"_ she told you, as if you didn't know.

But as your eyes began to drift away, glancing somewhere else, you flinched as you felt cold, dead fingers against your chin, forcing you to look back as she stood right in front of you. You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine, and the shiver that left your chilled breath. The ghost was just about your height, even though she was hovering, slightly, appearing much taller. Even in heels, she was only a few small inches taller… her face, similar to your own, and her hair… a soft luxurious blue, rather than the dark blackish blue your own hair was.

But it's her eyes, the same strange silver/bluish eyes you have, staring back at you, making your own soul quiver at the stare she was giving you.

As if you were looking in a mirror… and you were judging yourself over every little thing that was wrong with you.

"_Why are you here… You do not need to be here, yet,"_ she stated, causing you to huff as you gently moved her hand away from your face, taking a much needed step back to gather your thoughts.

"Don't you know? About the end?... Don't tell me you've forgotten what happens," you decided to say, waiting for the ghost as it thought, to herself, before letting out a heavy sigh and shaking her head at the memories…

**Your** memories.

"_Time travel. Seriously~? Of all the things…"_

"… Yep. Time is a bitch," you responded, smirking to yourself as you stepped to the side, casually making your way to a tombstone and leaning against it, and crossing your arms over your chest as your eyes followed the ghost. "… What do you think, about all of this?"

"_Idiots. The lot of them,"_ she scoffed, and you chuckled lightly at her response, causing her to turn and give you an annoyed glance. _"Not funny."_

"Yes it is… It's strange," you closed your eyes, sighing to yourself before your eyelids fluttered open, again, and you began to stare at the dirt, the ground, the earth… and the trees in the distance. "It's weird to know what I know… but then everything that brought me to that point has been taken away from me."

"_Sealed away,"_ you heard her clarify, and you huffed at her response.

"Still, now that I know what's there, what I can do… what **we** can do, it's strange… I don't hear you, anymore. I'm not sure how I feel about that," you decided to say, looking over at the specter in front of you, slowly drifting through the graveyard as you gave her a meek smile. "Just, if it wasn't for you… I don't think I would have survived at all."

"_You forget, we are one in the same… Two sides of a knife… I'm just the dull… worn out side,"_ she stated, as you rubbed the back of your neck, huffing at her words.

"Do you think we should stay out of this… mess?"

"_Why get involved?"_ she responded, simply, with a scoff leaving her chilling breath. _"We shouldn't be cleaning up… after the death children… Their mistakes are not our own –"_

"Sure, but," you began, causing the woman to give you an annoyed look at your interruption as you continued, "now that we know what'll happen, wouldn't we be at fault for doing nothing?"

"… _True,"_ she responded, pausing for a moment before huffing underneath her breath. _"But you? Us? Why?... You were thrown back in time, child… Brought back to square one… You're a human… now. Why do you want to be dead, again?"_

"I-I…" you paused, frowning to yourself as she seemed to be smirking, but you scoffed in response. "Not funny."

"_Yes it is… Anyways,"_ she sighed, beginning to drift, or rather pace, in front of your sights as she continued, _"You are now twenty… Our end should have come, by now… Now, what will you do?... With this new chance?"_

"… I-I still don't know, if I'm going to be honest," you chuckled nervously, before your slight smirk became a line on your face, turning into a frown. "This… isn't my time. How am I supposed to function? And I always thought I would be dead, by now… I should be dead, by now. This should all be over. We should be at rest, now," you decided to say, your hand rubbing at your face as you sighed, trying to keep yourself from falling asleep.

Or waking up. Whichever is worse, in this particular situation.

"… Do you know if this is the end, though?" you decided to ask, causing the ghost to glance over at you as you gave her a pout. "If we aren't just going to be reincarnated, again? I mean… technically, the end of the world happened. Does that mean this is the last life we live? Our soul lives? Can we actually find peace, once I pass away and my body decomposes into the ground?... Should I be scared?" you had to ask, but before you could look away, again, you felt her hand upon your face, forcing you to look back at her, and you shuddered, instinctively, at her cold touch, only to give her a worried look as the lingering spirit simply looked at you with a content smile upon her face.

"_The future is up to you, child… I'm just lingering until the bitter end,"_ she scoffed, but you rolled your eyes, waiting for the ghost to let go of your face before you sighed, again.

"Bitter end… Speaking of that," you began, your question causing the ghost to give you a curious look as you continued, "you told me, when I was little, that any sort of soulmate I could have had passed away, long ago. That I shouldn't look for true love… Does that still hold true?

"Should I assume I'm going to be lonely forever?" you decided to ask, an unsure look on your face, but she simply smirked, before shrugging her shoulders at your question. "… Please answer me."

"_Maybe~… In the future, I was correct,"_ she began, pausing for a moment before continuing, _"but… in this time… in this age… it is a different answer,"_ she stated, and as she heard your light sigh, she could only roll her eyes. _"But, child… is it truly that important to you… to find that… love? Love is such a trifle thing –"_

"Yes, I know," you responded with a light smile on your face. "In fact… maybe it's best that I don't, now that I think about it. When I was a little girl, I always wanted to find that princely knight in white shining armor, to whisk me away from all my troubles. Bring me to a place where I can be happy and live life comfortably. No worries, no cares… but life isn't that way.

"And… if it's the soul I'm thinking about… Maybe it's best I leave him be," you decided to say, waiting for the ghost's reaction as she sighed to herself, shaking her head.

"… _He's a stubborn idiot,"_ she began with a scoff, causing you to meekly smile at her response. _"… But he cares… a bit slow, but cares."_

"Slow?" you asked with a smirk, and you giggled as you felt a chilling wind blow past your face, particularly on your nose as she flicked a finger over your chilled skin.

"_By the time he gives a damn… it's already too late. If you are not blunt… nothing will happen. Trust me,"_ she stated, sighing deeply at her own words. _"… Don't… spend your life hung up on a soul that… doddles… Though, the choice is always yours… I don't make your decisions. I simply… exist,"_ she finished, causing your smile to slip, just slightly, into a light pout. _"… I swear,"_ she scoffed at your slight change in mood, _"you're just… like him. If we had children… you'd be the perfect child between the two of us."_

"Ah, hello? You have children with him, dummy," you scoffed, shaking your head at her before you chuckled rather lowly. "… We grew up differently. That's what it comes down to. You, some proper noble lady that had to keep a straight face all the time. Me, a child that needed to grow up fast, but then found a dependable brother to rely on… I got to live parts of my life as a child. Maybe that's why I can smile."

"_Perhaps… Thank you,"_ you heard her say, your eyes glancing over at her in confusion as the ghost seemed to linger, pausing and staring off into the distance, at a place far, far away from where you currently are.

Not in the land of the living.

"Thanks for what?" you scoffed, watching as she looked back at you with a meek smile on her face.

"_For… telling that sickly child that I would have been… happy to have such a daughter… in law. She makes my Vincent happy… which makes me happy,"_ she stated, causing you to smirk slyly at her words.

"Don't worry about it. I get why he's attracted to her. The fact that she's sweet, kind… untainted by the cruelty of this living world we linger in, even if she has her own problems… I get that. Considering the work a Phantomhive has to deal with… the pain and suffering that entails. She's a nice person to go home to. To forget one's worries," you stated in a thoughtful tone, causing the ghost to give you a curious look.

"_And… that Rosalyn. Why… are you not with her?"_ you heard the ghost ask, causing your smile to wean as you sighed, wearily to yourself.

"She let me go," you decided to say with a slight pout. "Of course, she didn't say it to my face, but… Rosie was the one that told Michael that I want to stay human. That I want to stay in the human realm. She doesn't want me around… She let me go," you frowned, unable to look the spirit in the face, anymore, as you swiped a stray tear away and sighed tiredly to yourself. "… I guess I decided to let everyone else go, too. If she's going to act that way."

"… _Don't be mad,"_ the woman told you, but you scoffed underneath your breath.

"I'm not –"

"_Then… don't be distressed. She… cares. Wishes for your wellbeing… regardless if it's the best decision… or not,"_ she decided to tell you, but you quickly shook your head in response.

"She doesn't want me to be a reaper. To ruin my life for her, but what? I can't have my own say in that?... She's taking care of the kids, but… Still. I'm tired of these reapers not telling me what they want. Just acting… not asking," you frowned, but the ghost smiled meekly, drifting her way over to you before letting out a tired, chilling sigh.

"_Maybe that's why… you need to forget about… finding someone,"_ she told you, causing you to frown as she continued. _"They ponder for too long… and before they know it… you're dead. Either give up on finding love with a grim reaper… or~ simply… give up on love entirely… It's not uncommon for humans to marry out of obligation… and self interest… then love, in this time,"_ she stated, but you quickly shook your head.

"You're right, but I'm not getting together with someone if I'm not attracted to them… and if they don't want me, then fine… Maybe I should just be celibate until I'm dead. Maybe I could adopt," you thought out loud, but when you noticed the unamused look on the woman's face, you couldn't stop yourself from smirking slyly at her irritation. "_**Whaat~?**_"

"_Don't be ridiculous… Besides, I'm sure the boy knows some eligible lords that would take your hand –"_

"No," you scoffed before she could finish. "… I'm not getting hitched to some guy I don't like. I want love… and if I can't get love, then I won't have it. Simple as that," you huffed, causing the ghost to roll her eyes.

"_Stubborn."_

"So are you," you smirked deviously in return, unable to stop yourself as you leaned back onto the tombstone you were relaxing upon, sighing to yourself as you closed your eyes, deep in thought.

About your future… the past… what you should do from here.

If this ghost of a past relative is really being helpful or just irritating.

But either way, it was nice to talk to Lady Claudia, again. No matter how irritating her words can be. Where the conversations lead…

At least she's here, with you, for once. It's only been a few months, but… it's like you lost an old friend. A companion that had been by your side since the beginning. Sure, you know she's always there. Always here, with you. Your souls are the same, while you may have lived different lives, you're still, well, her… and she, you.

But that doesn't mean you're Countess Claudia Phantomhive… and that doesn't mean she's Clara W. Phantomhive.

It's… weird, but… she can always bring you a sense of peace, even if she's just a ghost. Maybe just a thought. She's here, though… and…

This is comforting… even if you cannot sleep and you'll probably be irritated in the morning.

You just wish you could spend every night like this, talking to this other self you have… getting advice… thinking things over without getting too confused or irritated with yourself.

Without your thoughts lingering to deep, dark places that you never want to wander towards.


	24. Phantomhive Arc: The Past and Future 2

**A/N: Hey guys! Palm Sunday is today, so get your palms to whack your siblings over the head with them.**

**But no, seriously, this upcoming Holy Week is going to be crazy, for me. So, once again, if I don't post in a while after today, that's why. I've noticed I tend to post every few days, 3-4 days at the latest, but we'll see how this week goes. I'm working all week, and my only day off is Tues, until Sun, and even after that I may be busy until the very next Tues. But, I will probably be working on writing the chapters for this story, rather then posting. So, just a heads up. It's not like I'm doing absolutely nothing. Just, I prefer to look over a chapter all at once, rather then in sections, so I can understand the flow of each scene.**

**And, FYI, this entire chapter is pretty much an Undertaker POV. I decided to explore how Undertaker would feel after Claudia's death, and how with Clara around, what's swimming around in his head. This is my take on the Undertaker. Honestly, I could have done a better job with portraying him. I tend to write his inner monologue rather moppy… I've noticed. Every single POV from him seems to be this way… but I'm hoping, much later in this story, it isn't as repetitive. I hope.**

**I mean, we tend to stick with Clara, so if I write an Undertaker POV it's usually his reactions to certain events. **

**Also, I decided to make **_dream sequences/daydreams, or just distant memories in italics_**. Since **_**'foreign languages' is in bold and italics**_**, I figured to just **_use italics for an entire dream sequence_**. I don't like underlining, since sometimes it doesn't show up when I convert my writing into the format, and there's only so many combinations I can do. So, just a head's up.**

**This particular chapter is supposed to parallel the last chapter. That's what I was going for, from a writer's standpoint. I was going to make this shorter… but then I didn't. And this particular night spans about 3-4 chapters. Once again, I could just write these things quickly, but I tend to take my time when I write. Plan everything out. So, yeah. I apologize for how long these chapters can end up being. It kind of depends on the mood I'm in when I'm writing these chapters. **

**Anyways, enough about that! I want to post 1-2 more chapters, at least, before the end of this day. After that, I may not post for a while… or I may end up posting more between Mon-Tues. I don't have my usual afternoon class on Mon, so maybe I can do some more? But, we'll see. I'm just going to end up being VERY busy in the later half of the week.**

**Okay. That's about it. You guys ENJOY your week! And I hope you enjoy this upcoming chapter!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

I couldn't sleep.

The thoughts of my dear Claudia, sitting in her own pool of blood… haunts me, still.

The fact that it was by my own blade that ended her life… I just…

I sighed, deeply, running a hand through my long hair, letting my nails scratch through my scalp in an attempt to ease my internal frustrations. My other hand was gripping my lovely mourning lockets, but my thumb ran over the glass of one locket in particular.

'_Claudia P' '13 July 1866'_

I sighed, my fingers reaching down and rubbing the top of the glass with a distant longing in my uncovered eyes. I slowly closed my eyelids, recalling a past I wish to keep buried, but… on a night like this… it's hard to remember anything… fun.

"_I can save you."_

"_Undertaker –"_

"_I can save you. Please! Milady I can do this –"_

"_No," she spoke, her voice so stern it caused me to flinch, only to stare at her with a look of sympathy as she began to cough roughly into her gloved hand, causing me to sigh, sadly. "… Please don't look at me like that."_

"_But –"_

"_Cedric… please… let me die. I __**want**__ to die," she told me, a sad but content look on her face. And…_

_I couldn't stop myself from crying, tears of utter sorrow rolling down my face as I closed my eyes tightly, unable to look at her weakening face. It wasn't the common cold that was going to kill her, tonight. It was…_

_Something much worse… and…_

_I just can't…_

"_I know my time is almost up," she continued, a tired sigh leaving my breath as I felt her hand cuffing my face, her gloved fingers catching my tears as she stared at me, smiling meekly. Though, I could see in her bright light bluish, practically silver gaze that she was just as sorrowful as I was._

_Though, how she could bottle up her emotions… I have no idea. She's better at it then any deathling I've ever met, that has any sort of emotional expressions._

"_I've made my peace… I'm just… h-happy I got to spend my days with you, Cedric."_

"_But I-I can stop this. If for a moment, I can keep you with me," I couldn't help but say, my hand grasping her own as she gripped the side of my cheek, refusing to let me go. Refusing to let my head move away from her own._

"_Then what? What would that accomplish?" she scoffed, her stern voice causing me to flinch, but I couldn't help myself. It's been a long, long time since I felt… anything. Anything worthwhile._

_I left… in order to finish out my days without being abused and used by the council… but… here I am… longing for a love I knew cannot last for very long._

_Why do I always end up falling in love with creatures that can never live as long as myself? Why do I torture myself, like this?_

_Because… I…_

_Love… her… so much._

_So much._

"… _Undertaker?" she called out to me, trying to drag me out of my sorrow, but all I could do is let out a tired sigh, my eyelids tightening as I tried to rid myself of this painful feeling._

_Why does love have to hurt, this much?_

_Every single time I begin to care… they just… slip away from my grasp._

_I wish Death never existed!_

_I wish I didn't kill myself, damn it!_

_Damn it!_

"_Cedric come back to me," I heard faintly, her hands cuffing my cheeks as she shook my head, slightly, her soft eyes turning stern as she glared, waiting for me to snap out of my mind. My thoughts._

"… _Sorry love. I just… I can't lose this, again," I sighed, gently rubbing the top of her hand with a weak smile on my face. I could tell she wasn't impressed by my response, and instead let out an irritated huff._

"_I don't want to leave either, but it n-needs to happen. Do you want to know why?" she scoffed, causing my gaze to look into her own, and she waited for a moment before continuing. "Because… humans cannot linger for too long. We're like burning candles. Some last longer then others, but eventually we'll be snuffed out… I… I love you," she continued with a sad look on her face, "and… what I regret the most is that I c-couldn't take you with me._

"_Not that I'd want to," she scoffed, her annoyed tone causing me to smirk meekly at her slight irritation. "I still don't fully understand what makes you grim creatures yourselves, but I do understand that you cannot break your rules. Cedric, just… you need to let me die. I want to… this life has been difficult, okay? I'm ready to pass on," she smiled at me, lightly, though I could tell she was trying to get me to agree with her._

_But… while I'd normally just nod my head and smile in reply…_

_I… cannot. _

_Not this time._

"… _Can I make one last request? My death?" I heard her ask, a weak chuckle leaving my throat at the familiar nickname as I looked up, at her bright gaze, almost as overworldly as any supernatural being._

_In fact… to me… she is a glorious creature._

_Brighter than the stars. More divine then any winged angel up in the heavens._

_She's just so… beautiful…_

_She's… too kind. Too honest. Too perfect._

"_Whatever you wish, my love," I smiled meekly, hoping my words were enough to convince her to continue._

"_Stay… by my side until the end. Please?" she asked in a sweet, soft tone. A voice I haven't heard in quite a while, now that I think about it._

_And I couldn't stop myself from smiling, managing to pry one of her hands off of my cheek as I kissed the top of her hand, rubbing my thumb tenderly over the stop I specifically kissed. "I will stay… always and forever, my love."_

"_My death," she smiled, meekly, suddenly leaning closer to me upon her bed. A bed we'll end up sharing when she insists I stay at the mansion. When she wishes that I'm by her side._

_I just… couldn't stop my tears from falling down… onto the blood soaked sheets… the crimson red discoloring the vibrant blues and silky whites of the sheets._

_And as she rubbed my face, her other hand running over my chest, her head against my beating heart…_

_I kept crying, holding onto her body tightly. I just cannot…_

_Let her go._

"Claudia," I mumbled, letting out a sniffle as I wiped a tear from my face, as if someone was watching me. Of course, **something** is watching me… it's always there, taunting me. Watching me suffer.

But I could only sigh in defeat. I couldn't bring her back, even if I wanted to. Even if I tried. She would never let me do such a thing… She'd be furious.

Necromancy…

I've thought about such things, studied the dark arts out of curiosity. Still… nothing. Nothing… permanent. Real.

I just…

Why did it have to be her? My dear… Countess Claudia…

But my head suddenly flinched upward as I sensed something was amiss… It wasn't a demon or an angel appearing on the estate, or even some creature out for a midnight snack…

No…

I noticed someone walking, down the hallway, her presence disappearing further and further into the mansion…

I stood to my feet, making sure I snatched my top hat back upon my head before I left the room.

Just where… is that girl going? In the middle of the night, like this…

Odd. Strange…

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Was that!... My…

I couldn't believe my eyes, as I watched my newly acquired assistant chatting to a lingering spirit that looked just like my Claudia. Or rather… it **is** my Claudia, in the spirit.

But what was more amazing was what I was hearing.

The soft, eerie voices of the dead, radiating, pulsating, speaking in and around me. A familiar set of voices I haven't heard in a very long time, because… I refused to listen, for the longest time. Especially after I simply gave up on enjoying my existence, a very long time ago…

But no, that girl… Clara was speaking back in such an ancient tongue!

How does she know how to respond? To speak back!?

Yes, sure, she's part reaper. Sure, I can understand that. Even a human, if they care enough, could hear what the dead are speaking, no matter how fearful or traumatized they may become. But… she is… speaking perfectly to my lovely Claudia. And…

… Just… why are they talking about me, like that?

I couldn't stop myself from tearing up. To think, I was hoping the dear girl simply didn't know about Claudia. Didn't see her like I did… but… No, there the ghost of my dead love lingers, speaking with a girl I couldn't help but… feel connected to.

No wonder I am…

She's a spitting image of Claudia! How could I not see that in the first place?

"Undertaker?" I heard a familiar voice behind me, causing me to freeze. Oh… I was so engrossed in my watching that I wasn't paying attention to my surrounds.

And in a blink of an eye, I stood behind the young earl, covering his mouth before he could make anymore noise. "_**Hush~~**_" I hissed lowly in his ear, my eerie tone causing the boy to stop his squirming, only to cast me a skeptical look, which I returned with a smirk of my own. "… Stay quiet, now."

"Fine?" Vincent responded in an unsure tone of voice, taking a step closer to look over at what I was staring at.

Only to give me a confused look. "… What's going on with Lady Clara, over there?" he asked, his voice so low in a whisper I almost didn't catch his question.

But I am a shinigami. Even if my eyesight is terrible, the rest of my senses are top notch. Heightened to a degree no mere mortal could understand. "She is… talking to the ghost of your late mother," I honestly spoke, knowing that the earl would be confused, and I continued, "It's best not to question this."

"I knew something was off about the girl… but wait," he continued, holding up a finger, "is that why she's with you? Because she can talk to the dead?"

"No," I honestly stated, hoping that my voice was low enough that the two women, dead and living, wouldn't notice that we're here. "Other reasons… but this is a new development."

"Oh…"

"… She's… quite interesting to watch," I continued, causing the boy to cast me a curious glance as I watched the conversation in front of me, their words causing me to be extra intrigued over this entire matter as I learned more about Clara… and perhaps dear Claudia, too. "She never disappoints."

"Hmm… well, if that's all –"

"Why don't you wait in the garden, if you wish to speak to your mother?" I stated, causing the man to give me a confused look, but I know why he showed up.

Because he couldn't sleep and wanted to speak to his late mother on the anniversary of her death.

A reason why I never go out in the middle of the night, on this particular night. I already know what the boy does, and thus, it's not something different. Interesting.

But this… certainly is –

"_You sure I should go?"_ I heard dear Clara ask in a curious tone, and I smiled meekly at the light hearted chuckle my Claudia spoke, in response, though her ghostly response was a bit hard to overhear.

"_Yes… talk to him,"_ I heard, causing me to narrow my eyes curiously, only to hear Clara chuckle lowly in response.

"_I see… You do know I can barely notice the supernatural, right? Except the demons, of course."_

"_Yes… good life, dear child."_

"_Good death, Lady Claudia,"_ the girl responded with a smirk of her own, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed as I noticed the ghost fading away. I know that Claudia's spirit still lingers, especially on the eve of her death date. That's how it is with most deaths, especially the most violent.

I've learned, over the years… Especially when I began to live amongst the mortals, again, and learn their curious ways.

But before I knew it, Vincent had wandered off, perhaps noticing that the girl had stopped talking, and I began to feel a bit panicky over the fact that she was drawing nearer. There was no point in hiding, for she knew where I was. And before I knew it…

I cracked a smile, grinning at the confused, yet tired look on the woman's face. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone filled with her own spark of curiosity, which made me smile even wider.

"Thinking. Outside… remembering. Yourself?"

"Just… talking. Taking a breather. I couldn't sleep," she told me, and my smile turned kinder in response to her tired voice.

"Perhaps we should have a cup of tea to calm our nerves?"

"Hmm… I suppose," she sighed, suddenly grabbing my arm and tugging me away from the Phantomhive graveyard, but I glanced back.

Just barely noticing my dear lady, standing in the center with a thoughtful look on her fading face, only to glance at me, giving me a content smile, before seemingly disappearing completely out of my sights.

For good.


	25. Phantomhive Arc: The Past and Future 3

After sneaking into the kitchen and making a cup of nice, warm tea in a teapot, the two of you eventually found yourselves in a library room, teacups and teapot in hand as you both situated yourselves into the plush seats. Only instead of slumping down into a chair, you sat right next to Undertaker on the couch, the two of you leaning against the armrests as you sipped hot tea and stared off into the distance, deep in thought.

You sighed, tiredly to yourself. Not only did Claudia shoo you away, but so did the Undertaker… You bet it's because Vincent was there, too, which only makes you a bit worried over what they overheard.

Just… what did Undertaker hear to make him so quiet?

Your eyes eventually began to look at him, staring at him critically as you thought over Claudia's words. About your human life… your future. About… Undertaker.

You've known, for a while, that he's probably that soulmate you've been longing for, for far too long. Someone that could fully, truly understand you. To complete who you are. What you are… at least not be judgmental. Find no real faults in you. Sure, such a person may not exist, but as a child you wanted that type of being. Longed for someone to relate to. You could… never truly share everything with another individual. There's always something you're keeping hidden because you didn't want to deal with their reactions. The consequences.

But… with Undertaker, it never was that way.

You don't know why, but you feel you can tell him anything and he won't think twice about it. He won't toss you to the curb, if you're being honest… and… you like that. You've grown tired of a lot of things, but being truthful and honest… you just… want to be that kind, sweet, honest person everyone else can be.

Instead, you're a Phantomhive. Born to live in the shadows, feel the full extent of the world's evils and utter darkness… it's… soul crushing and… you're tired.

You just want someone that can relate to you, and…

It's a question… if you can put up with the fact that he won't fully love you as you… or if you'll toss aside any hope for a romantic relationship with the guy, and instead try to find someone else that could love you. After all… that's what you had been doing, right?

Drifting from one being to the next, without any real set goals. Only to find someone you could tolerate… that's how it is, these days. Tolerate. You tolerate the individual, even if you dislike certain things they do and say. At least you can put up with them…

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt a hand upon your face, brushing a tear away as he gave you a sad smile in return. You couldn't stop your sniffling, your eyes glancing at his long black nails, and before he could return comfortably to his spot on the couch, you caught his hand, keeping it close to your person as you sighed, tiredly, as you felt more and more… distort.

Eventually, without uttering a word, his arms scooped you up, setting your cup aside as he leaned backward into the armrest, taking your body with him. You let out a surprised 'oof', blinking in confusion over what just happened, until you could feel the beating of his heart beat, his lungs expanding and contracting as he breathed, heavily, against his ribcage. You sighed, leaning into his chest and moving just slightly so you'd feel more comfortable, your hands wandering to slump upon his broad chest.

This felt… natural. Real. Perfect…

So… why are you starting to cry, again?

"So… no wonder you didn't like to be called lady, all the time," you heard Undertaker say, perhaps in an attempt to ease the tense situation.

But all you could do is sigh helplessly in defeat. "… I'm… sorry –"

"Whatever for? I was the one who was spying… but, I couldn't possibly put an end to such a compelling conversation," he stated, a meek smile appearing on your lips until you sighed, once again, closing your eyes tightly as he continued. "… Then dear Claudia knows about you too… huh."

"We're one in the same, Undertaker. Two different side of the same coin… which sucks, if I'm going to be perfectly honest. Why do you think I keep saying that I'm tired? It's not a joke," you scoffed, but your hands gripped at his outer robes in a vain attempt to keep him close. Why? Well… maybe it's because…

You really do like him.

Even if you don't want to admit that.

"… You want some honestly?" you decided to say, and you could feel the man shifting, just slightly, before you continued. "… There are nights I cannot sleep… because I keep thinking about my own death. That I want to die, so, so much… Sometimes it scares me and other times it's just a dull, numbing feeling of familiarity… but the closer I am to you, the less those day terrors seep into my mind. Then again, I've always had that problem… Wanting to… die," you stated, before you wiped away few stray tears, sniffling as you did.

"I'm glad I can bring you some sort of comfort," he stated, but he glanced down as you began to shift against him, first you shifted away, rubbing at your tear stained face, and then you put your hands upon your knees so you were sitting up, staring at him with tired, defeated eyes.

"I think the worst nightmares I have, against anything demonic or anything stress related, or even seeing my friends and family die over and over again in a perpetual loop… would have to be seeing my deaths over and over, and over again," you decided to say, a sad smile on your face as you let yourself speak. Regardless if you should say a word or not. It was… freeing, to admit this.

Even if it means he's critically judging you, right now, it doesn't matter.

You just… need confirmation that someone cares enough to listen to your ranting.

"I see… Claudia dying… over and over again, and I see… many other lives, dying… over and over again. None of them are me, but… what deterred me from becoming like my mum was those faint memories, reminding me exactly what happens to those who fight and fight and fight… but to bring those exact same tormented souls back to the living? That's just… terrible," you sighed, tightly closing your eyes in an attempt to forget.

But it did the exact opposite, as you felt your own physical body in pain, bleeding out in its own pool of blood. As…

The eyes of Death watched, lingering, as you suffered in pain.

Just… watching…

And that hurts so, so much.

"… July 13th, 11:27, before midnight… the death day of Claudia, but also the exact time and day of my own birth," you decided to say, opening your eyes to look at Undertaker, with a sad smile lingering on your tired face. "Every single time it's my birthday, I cannot sleep. It's as if I'm waiting for that exact moment when Death comes for me… I know you miss her, but… I'm sorry. She's not coming back, no matter how much you try," you told him, letting out a tired sigh as you gripped your pant legs tightly, trying to stop yourself from crying.

But, you began to tear up again.

It just… all hurts. The physical pains you've endured in this body of yours, and the mental trauma that has kept you from experiencing the joy of living. Regardless if those old wounds having disappeared over time, after being thrown back in time… it doesn't matter. It's still there.

The feeling of demonic claws ripping into your flesh. Clawing at your very soul. Damaging exactly what makes you, you. Predatory gazes, and your painful loss of innocence. The realization that you're just a small little bug, in the grand scheme of things. That the universe could do without you…

Yet you linger.

Your soul lingers… and why?

Even you don't know.

It lingers longer then a soul should. Even souls that get reused, they do not stay for as long as your own soul has. Centuries… thousands of years… just, why?

You always wondered that, when you first realized a soul could do such a thing… No wonder you're so tired, and you always stated that you feel like an old, crappy soul that just wanted a long nap. Well, you do. You do need a nap.

It's just never come… and will it? Now? You don't even know, but you're scared.

Scared that… you'll die and some unfortunate child will end up in the same state as you. Forced to confront the unknown, forced to be torn apart, forced to endure… everything painful… suffering.

But you flinched, your eyes opening wide and confused as you suddenly felt a gentle kiss upon your forehead, as a stray hand wiped some of your tears away. "It's okay, Clara. Breathe. You need to stay with me."

"I-I, a-ah… hold me," you sniffled, slumping forward and letting the man cradle you tightly in his arms. You hate how weak and feeble you're being, but… you cannot help yourself.

It's like this every single birthday. Every single July 13th. Heck, if you don't let this out now, you'll spend a few more weeks afterward in emotional pain… Your soul, in pain. It's just… too much to bear. You can blame it on your own asthma, but it's best… to just…

Let this out now.

Even if it's physically draining.

Slowly, eventually, you slipped out of his grasp, again, your hand reaching into your pockets to pull out an inhaler. He watched you with a sad smile as you quickly took your medicine, the thought of hyperventilating and falling unconscious because you're being overly emotional was an irritating thought.

But once that was over, and you sighed deeply to yourself, you couldn't help but stare at your inhaler, with the plastic capsule having a little skull on the side. "… You know, if someone who didn't know what this was saw this inhaler… I bet they'd think I'm inhaling poison."

"Very true," you saw Undertaker smirk, causing you to smile meekly, but he gently grasped your hands, taking the inhaler from you, capping it, before placing it back into your hands, which you put back into your pocket. "… Have you run out of those?"

"I have one more. I'll be fine for a while," you told him with a weak smile, but he sighed to himself, scratching the back of his neck while you smiled meekly at his actions. "… I know you probably don't want to talk about this, but… I'm tired of thinking of dying and shit like that," you began, watching as his gaze fell upon you as you continued weakly, your lungs still out of breath, but you needed to talk about this.

You want to know, no matter how painful the truth will hurt you.

"If you overheard everything… you need to tell me exactly what you think when… Claudia and I started to talk about you, Undertaker," you decided to say, gathering your courage to look the man straight in the eyes. Even if you cannot see his bright reaper gaze. You know that direct eye contact is a way to get most of the answers. Most of the truth… or at the very least, you'll know if he's nervous to answer you, or not.

You watched as he gave you a cautious, unsure look, his bright green shinigami gaze staring right into your soul, your being… only for the man to sigh in a frustrated tone of voice. His arm absentmindedly began to wrap around your slimmed figure, as he tugged you closer to his body. "… I know Claudia is not coming back… I made my peace with her death. I've accepted it… Besides, knowing her, if I ever tried to attempt to bring her back, she'd start beating me up," he chuckled dryly, but you simply smirked in reply.

"Yes, she would. So would I, for that matter," you decided to say, causing him to chuckle once more, but there was no real humor in his tone of voice. Any real laughter. It was a noise for the sake of loosening the tension… even though, you could tell, he didn't want to say anything.

But was forced to, considering the circumstances.

"Of course," he smirked, before his smile faded and he seemed to look thoughtful about something, something he was thinking deeply about. "… What… do you want, dear Clara?" he asked, though there didn't seem to be any humor in his tone, or even any happiness.

Only nervousness, which caused you to sigh deeply as you gave him an unsure smile, in return. "Honestly?... I… have no idea," you scoffed, sitting up once again, though you let the man keep his arm around your body, though his grasp was loosened, as you continued, "but… I get that you reapers take too much time, compared to a mortal human… If I think about waiting, it may be years before something actually happens, between us," you decided to say, thinking to yourself before you turned back to the Undertaker, "but if anything, I dearly want to keep you around. I want to be here, with you, if I'm going to be perfectly honest. I know it's weird, but I'm saying the truth.

"I-I… like you," you smiled meekly, biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from tearing up, and when the wave of emotions faded away into a dull ache, you sighed and continued. "However, there's… still a lot on my mind, right now."

"… Whose Rosalyn?" you heard him ask, causing you to smirk lightly in reply.

"Rosalyn Blodthorne, or Rosie for short. Out of everyone I've been with, she's the only one still around… but, obviously, we're not together anymore," you scoffed to yourself, but noticing he didn't seem convinced, you decided to elaborate. "She told Michael that I wanted to stay human, even though I never made that decision. That I didn't want to be with them. That I didn't care… I-I… care, and I know **why** she did what she's done. If I have this second chance to be human I should take it, right? A-and what's the point of preparing for an apocalypse, if I'm not going to be alive to participate if the universe goes to shit?...

"Just… it was an indirect way to say that we need to split up. That we should move on… I-I… I did, do… love her… but," you sighed, closing your eyelids tightly, holding back the tears that wanted to resurface, again, "I j-just… spent so much wasted time. I mean, what we had together, I enjoyed it. I would never want to forget it, but… s-she… let me go.

"And that's what hurts, okay?... Besides," you sighed deeply to yourself, reaching for your eyes and rubbing your sore, tired puffy eyes as you tried to stop yourself from crying, again, "out of everything I've done in my lifetime, so far… I think I've always enjoyed being a funeral director's assistant. Living with the dead, like this. It's just… so peaceful… that I don't want to let that go. It doesn't mean I care about the kids or the reapers that ended up back in time, like me. It's just… I-I… I just wish this could be different," you sighed once more, only to feel arms wrapping around your body, tugging you onto Undertaker's lap. You couldn't help but give him a sad, but unsure look, and he smiled lightly as he brushed some stray sweaty hairs away from your face, rearranging your messy hair as he gave you a thoughtful look, in return. "… W-what? Please say something."

"You're just… a kind soul. I feel bad about… well," he chuckled dryly to himself, his sentence dying away as he stared at you, deep in his own thoughts, and slowly you began to pout at him in response, wishing he'd just tell you what exactly he was feeling. What he was thinking.

So you could just have a damn answer, already!

"… You know, demons say the same thing," you decided to say, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him, but when you noticed his solemn expression turning sour and irritated, you smirked triumphantly to yourself, before sighing and brushing some hairs away from your face, in an attempt to see him a bit better. "They want to eat me because my soul is too… bright, or something like that. That it'd be a _delicious~ meal_, even if they corrupt me to my very core. Angels, pah! A similar response. I'm easier to sway towards their righteous side… but I speak the truth, or at least try to. They just follow orders.

"You want to know why I care more about the dead? The grim reapers? Cause… at least there's some truth in Death that Life simply cannot provide… a-and maybe that's why I'm naturally attracted to your kind," you told him, pouting at the thought before sighing roughly to yourself. "… Undertaker, I'm just… going to be honest here.

"I… feel… more for you then I want to admit. Okay? I-I… think I love you. Have a crush on you, at least," you stated, pausing for a moment, and when he didn't respond you continued, "cause… you make me laugh and you seem to listen to me when I talk. Heck, you can calm me down when I'm getting too emotional, a-and you don't seem to hate me when I yell too much. Say too much… I always wanted someone who could make me laugh, make me cry… like my weird humor or simply enjoy my company. I don't have to try hard, with you… and I like that.

"But… then again, if you just cannot like me back… I understand if you cannot. That you just see another Claudia. I-I get that. In fact, if that's the case, I don't want us to get together, then. I don't want you to see me as Claudia c-cause… I'm not her, and it'd just hurt more if you're just with me because you see Claudia, in me. Not… me," you told him, wiping a stray tear before sighing and glancing up at him, staring directly into his eyes as you continued. "But, if there's any reason you need to hesitate… then… I need to move on, Undertaker. I can't keep having these feelings for you, but nothing happens.

"I'm twenty, now. I didn't think I'd survive this long… Either I need to move on and find someone else or I just should give up on finding love," you decided to say, letting out a light scoff as you began to look away from him. "Cause what kept me going was my own determination and love to those reaper kids. And my friends. And that I cared, about them… so… y-yeah… Can you say something, please?" you asked, unable to stand the fact that you've been talking, all this time, spilling your guts out for him.

Only for this man to stay silent, like this.

You, just…

You're so frustrated that you wanted to scream!

And you're so tired and sad that you wanted to weep.

But before you could lose it…

You flinched as you felt long nails pressing into the side of your face, along the crook of your neckline, tilting your head up to meet the man's warm, thin lips. You paused, blinking, unsure what you should do about this, before your eyes flickered close and you simply let it happen, letting the tears start to trickle out from your closed eyelids as you leaned upward to meet his tender kiss.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand pressing into the back of his head as you leaned in closer, while you could feel his own arms hesitantly wrap around you, before he moved you closer, causing you to sit right onto his lap, straddling him on top of the couch.

By the time you both finally moved away you were panting, even though you hadn't been doing much to begin with, but you cursed yourself for the blush that had crept up upon your cheeks, only to chuckle sadly as you felt his fingers brushing away your stray tears. "… I'm a mess."

"_So am I~_" he responded in his own teasing tone, only to pause and give you a slight frown. "… Do you really like me, though? Love me, like that?... I don't want to take away your ability to find true love with another, but then again… the thought of losing you, to another, wounds me."

"I told you how I feel. Just… I want to have, well… the truth. I don't want to wait for an answer, Undertaker," you told him, but you instinctively leaned away as his head leaned closer to your own, causing your cheeks to blush just a little bit more, and he smirked wildly in reply.

Only to quickly kiss the top of your nose, causing you to look at him confused and irritated, as he snickered to himself. "If I say yes, what would that mean about us?" he asked, simply, but you shrugged your shoulders in reply, rubbing your nose at the weirdness left on the top of your nose.

"Does it matter?"

"_I see~~_" he thought, aloud, and he smirked as your breath hitched, your eyes looking at him widely and uneasy. And while your reaction was amusing him, he could tell you were close to tears, again, and you looked at him a bit confused as he pressed his forehead against your own, closing his eyes and sighing sadly to himself. "… Yes."

"… Yes?" you responded, and he chuckled lightly at your unsure tone.

"Yes, I love you, as well… But," he continued, opening his eyes and leaning away from you, his hand reaching up to brush through your messy strands of hair as he sighed tiredly to himself, "I understand humans will not live, for long. Even if you're a bit different to the average human… you're still mortal."

"That I am," you told him, and he nodded his head, slowly, before sighing once more.

"So… I wish to court you, my lady Clara," he continued, pausing for a moment to notice the confusion on your face, and he snickered to himself. "Whatever the equivalent is to, not quite a fiancée, but we say that we are together."

"… Dating?" you responded in a confused tone, only to huff at the giggling he was giving you in return. "What? I know you guys kind of explained the idea of courtship or whatever, but right? Dating? You want to go out on dates and stuff?"

"_I suppose so~_" he grinned, but as he noticed your pout, he patted the top of your head before sighing to himself. "I know you are learning quite a lot, my dear… but, if I am to agree, I do wish you wouldn't have eyes for others, while I'm around."

"I could say the same to you," you scoffed, only to pause, suddenly grabbing one of his stray hands, and you pressed his palm up against your chest, above your breasts, and you could tell you were making him nervous, but you continued with a serious tone on your lips, and a stern gaze in your eyes. "If I agree, we need to start telling people that we're going out. That we're dating, or courting, or whatever… and I expect that you don't wander and look around at other beings, either. No matter how tempting they could be. No prostitutes. No males. Just me.

"And I get if that's hard, for some to do. But if I say yes, I want us to be exclusive. Just you and me… and I'd personally like it if we did… what, courting, at least once a week? I mean, I don't care when, but let's at least make time for that, okay?" you decided to say, waiting for a response.

You know your bluntness has put people off, before. Heck, you've confessed to being attracted, before, but after your little ranting speech they tend to leave. Not bother with the 'formalities' and only wanted you as a one night stand or a fleeting fling.

But… as he smiled lightly to himself, his eyes staring down at his hand upon your chest as you held his hand there, he looked back into your serious gaze, only to give you a light smile. "I promise, my lady love, Clara Phantomhive, that I will not have eyes for anyone else, except for you, from this moment onward. Love me, and I will love you in return… and yes, once a week sounds lovely," he finished with a light chuckle, and at his light hearted humor you sighed, letting go of his hand as you let your hands fall unceremoniously onto your lap.

"G-good… and, don't call me Phantomhive, 'kay? Just Graves. Besides, I always preferred Graves over being a Phantomhive. Less pressure, you know?" you told him, but he snickered underneath his breath.

"_Whatever you wish, my love~_" he spoke, his lips suddenly breathing against your ear, and you grasped, your eyes wide and your face redder then you wanted them to be, but then you huffed, nudging him playfully as he leaned away and snickered at your reaction.

"… Now what?" you decided to ask, realizing the awkward position you were currently in, sitting on the man's lap like this. Heck, in this Victorian era, this was probably scandalous! Not that you don't like physical contact. In fact, the closer you are, the happier you tend to be. And geeze, you know the man is like that, too. He doesn't seem to mind when you get a bit too close for comfort.

"_Well~_… what do you wish to do, my dear?" he asked, and you gave him an unsure look before you gently grasped his hands, his gaze watching you curiously, as you looked at his long, bony hands and you sighed tiredly to yourself.

"… This is going to be even weirder, I bet, but come with me," you decided to say, suddenly stepping onto the ground and standing above him, tugging on his arms until he stood, while giving you a curious gaze in return. You couldn't stop your blush from creeping high upon your face, but… you don't care.

And besides… as long as he doesn't do anything weird… you may just like this.

And you'd know what he means by 'courtship' and such. Just, what does he expect to get out of you?

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: I do need to admit, writing this particular arc has been a lot of fun. A lot more character development… and I don't have to use my brainpower too much. Plus, looking into various things in Victorian English society has been an interesting experience, to say the least.**

**Romance! Whoop!**

**Oh, and before we continue, I did ask if you guys wanted to have lemons in this story… or just romantic gestures, that sort of stuff. Well, I only got one response to that question, and I did put a poll up on my main page, if anyone is interested. But, no, sorry smut fans. The next chapter doesn't involve any sex. Considering I asked that question as I was writing these chapters, I decided to not put that sort of stuff in, yet.**

**But I think I will. Later. **

**Past Chapter 40. That's how much I've written, right now. Maybe even the 40****th**** chapter? **_**I don't know~**_**. Haven't decided, yet, if/when it'll happen.**

**But it'll happen. I just have to be in the mood to write that sort of stuff. That's the ultimate problem. ^_^**


	26. Phantomhive Arc: The Past and Future 4

You couldn't stop the giggle that left your breath at the very confused, even unsure look crossing Undertaker's face, but, with a light hearted grin, you opened the bedroom door, letting the man close it behind him as you let go of his hands and walked further into the guest room. You closed the curtains, hiding away most of the moonlight, before calmly, and perhaps too confidently, making your way to the bed, casually throwing off your coat onto a nearby chair and slipping off your shoes. "… Clara I'm not sure about this –"

"_What are you thinking~?_" you smirked rather deviously, waiting for a response, but when he gave you nothing you shrugged your shoulders, slipping off your shoes, socks, and belt, before calmly making your way over to him.

You could tell he was nervous. Very, very nervous. But you simply smirked, suddenly swiping his hat off of the top of his head, though it was a bit hard to do considering he's so much taller, compared to yourself. "I-if you need me to, I can sleep –"

"No. You can sleep in here," you told him, propping his top hat upon a dresser, before throwing aside the covers, suddenly crawling inside, and letting out a tired yawn as you placed your head upon the pillow. "… What? Aren't you going to join me?"

"… I don't think this is appropriate," he stated, simply, but you shrugged your shoulders, letting out another yawn as you rolled in the bed, giving him a light smile in reply.

"Does this matter? We've slept in the same bed, before… If you want me to leave, I'll go. I just… want to cuddle," you told him, slipping a hand underneath the plush pillow as you attempted to feel comfortable.

But you smirked triumphantly as he sighed, in defeat, before he began to slip out of his clothes. Your grinning turned into slight embarrassment as you watched the reaper take off his clothes, going very… very slowly, it seemed. First his outer robes, then his boots… and then… his inner robes… leaving the man bare chested, with a pair of black pants still around his waist. He stood there for a moment, as if he was showing off his body to you, or maybe because he was curious about your reaction, and apparently he got a reaction he was looking for as he chuckled in amusement as you covered parts of the sheets over your face, burying the front of your face into the pillow.

"_Now, now~. Why are you so afraid~, hmmm~~?_"

"Not afraid," you mumbled, feeling the mattress shift beside you, the bedsheets moving beside you, and you didn't shift your face away from the pillow until you felt a poke in your cheek, your eye peeking as the man grinned, poking playfully at your cheek with his long, black nail. "… Hmm?"

"Nothing more, then? Just… cuddling, you say," he asked, causing you to give him a curious look before you shifted in the sheets, rolling to your side so you could face him.

"Unless you want more," you decided to ask, but he chuckled lowly at your response.

"_Maybe~_… but no, not tonight."

"Then not tonight," you responded, rolling back over onto your backside as you sighed, staring up at the darkened ceiling as you gazed upward with a tired look on your face. "I sleep better when someone's beside me, anyways. Less likely to have nightmares."

"Hmm…" you heard him reply with a thoughtful hum, before you felt his arm suddenly wrapping around you, causing you to turn slightly to look at him with a curious gleam in your eyes.

"… Undertaker?"

"… Good night, love," he mumbled, already closing his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep.

You just watched him, listening to his soft breathing, and knowing he wasn't actually asleep, yet. He was just faking it, obviously. Reapers do not breathe when they are actually asleeping. They're more like the dead then they are the living, in that way. When you first figured that out, you were terrified, but these days…

You smiled to yourself, rolling over and slumping your own arm around the Undertaker's waist, and you could feel his breath hitch, but you pretended that you didn't hear it. Instead, you let your eyes gaze at the man's pale face, looking at his facial scars… his long white eye lashes… and the fact that he doesn't actually have eyebrows… hmm…

But slowly, you closed your eyes, slumping your head into the warm pillow as you felt his breathing beside your face, as you drifted off into a content, peaceful… uninterrupted rest…

Until you heard someone calling out my name, from down the hallway, and before I knew it the door suddenly flew open. "Undertaker, did!... Oh." You sighed in an irritated tone, glancing over to notice Vincent was standing at the door, wide eyed, still in his pajamas.

"_**Whaaaaat~?**_" Undertaker groaned in response, letting out a tired yawn, but as you stirred more in the bedsheets, moving to get a better glance at Vincent's bright red blushing face, you couldn't help but smirk in amusement.

"… Why is Clara in your bed, Undertaker?"

"It's not what you think," you sighed as you began to shift up in the bed, only for the man's arm to pin you down, forcing you to let out an annoyed grunt, but Undertaker let a slight snicker leave his breath before he sighed, deeply, mainly out of irritation for being awoken so early.

"Vincent, boy, while your embarrassed face is hilarious," he began, your head moving to give Undertaker a curious look as he continued, while his other arm draped over his face as he tried to hold back the growl of irritation he wanted to make, rather then the tired sigh he actually made, "why don't you tell your little servants to stop looking for my Lara, _hmm~_?... I'll explain, **later**."

"Fine," you heard the grown ass man scoff as if he was a child being scolded for misbehaving, but you could tell this entire scene was unnerving him as he closed the door, just a bit more so no one could see this particular scene, before he continued, "now, tell me Clara, did you come here on your own accord or what?"

"Who do you think wanted to sleep here?" you responded, with a smirk playing upon your face, before you rolled over into the bed, letting your body get a bit more comfortable. "See you later, Vincent."

"… F-fine. Please, be ready before breakfast," he decided to say before leaving the room, closing the door behind him as he did.

You laid there, waiting for your headache to pass, before you yawned, loudly and without any restraint, before you noticed just want sort of position you were currently in. Apparently, at some point during the night, the man wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist while the other was slightly underneath the pillow you had your head on and beside your head, cradling your body against his chest while your back had been facing him. Now, though, you turned to face the Undertaker, eyes still drowsy, but mostly awake, now, as you watched the man breathing, his chest slowing rising… then falling… rising… falling… until he noticed that you were staring at him as he opened an eyelid to give you a curious look in return.

"Sorry," you decided to say, giving him a nervous smirk. "This must be embarrassing, for you."

"Not me, love," Undertaker responded, giving you a slight smirk in return before his tired gaze glanced you over, studying you for a moment, before he let out a deep, tired sigh. "… Perhaps we should get up."

"Perhaps," you responded, though the two of you made no moves to leave the bed. Instead, you scooted a tad closer to the man, slumping your head onto his chest as he let out a content sigh while he wrapped his arms around you, tightening his hold around you as you laid on his bare chest. "… You have a nice heartbeat."

"Do I?" he chuckled rather deeply, his strangely deep voice causing you to blush just slightly, but you simply sighed in response, closing your eyes as you heard the rapid thumping of his heart against his bare chest, and feel his chest rising and falling the more and more he breathed. "… Am I remembering correctly or is the Midford family supposed to arrive today?"

"Y-yeah… Vincent's sister, right?" you asked in a nervous tone of voice, causing the man to smirk as he patted the top of your head, before he ran his long nails through your unbound locks of hair. You couldn't stop yourself as you let out a light content groan as he scratched a particular part of your itchy head, your head tilting so he'd reach a very itchy spot, while he began to giggle lightly at your movements.

"You're like a cat."

"_Suuure~_" you scoffed, pausing for a moment as you felt his nails scratching your head, before you sighed, moving your head slightly, so you were looking up at the Undertaker with a tired pout on your face. "I suppose we need to wake up. Apparently, getting ready every damn day takes time," you scoffed, causing the man to snicker at your slight discomfort.

"_Do you need my help~?_ –"

"No. I'll be fine," you stated, pausing once more to enjoy the warmth before slipping yourself out of the sheets, and groaning to yourself as you slipped out of the bed, stumbling and reaching for your coat, and quickly slipping it onto your shoulders. You didn't even bother to put on your shoes and socks, instead grabbing the rest of your belongings into your arms before you began to make your way over to the door. "See y'ah later, Undertaker."

"Of course, my lady," he grinned, causing you to look over your shoulder to give him a curious look, before you smirked slightly, giving him a shrug, and then leaving down the hallway.

You ignored the fact that the servants were obviously talking about 'the latest gossip' behind your back, and you ignored Vincent's questioning entirely as you walked right into your guest bedroom, setting your belongings down on a chair while the man followed you inside. "Don't you know how indecent this is – And could you **not** take off your clothes right now!? Clara!"

"Not my fault you barged in, and we weren't having sex. My god, are you this dense?" you huffed, ignoring his pleas completely, only to notice he was covering his face, blushing madly and growling to himself, and you turned to give him a slight smirk. "… Does it matter?"

"Shouldn't it? I don't know what you two are doing, but this is improper behavior of a woman, Clara! A-and –"

"Hey, look, if you're going to stand there like an idiot, at least help me tighten my corset," you scoffed, your words forcing the man to open his eyes to notice you already had your under garments on, including long black stockings, and he sighed deeply, knowing he honestly had no say in the matter as he walked over, grabbing your back laces, as you took a position next to the bedpost.

"… Then, did my wife's interference get into your minds?" he asked in a curious tone, causing you to grunt as he tugged at your laces, before you sighed and loosened your grip on the post, slightly.

"You could say that. I mean, she **is** a Phantomhive. Should I be surprised?" you responded, causing a light chuckle to leave his breath.

"Very true… I need to know," you heard him ask in a soft, almost hesitant tone of voice, and you glanced over your shoulder, giving him a curious look in return as he continued, "are you using the Undertaker in some sort of way? I mean, I didn't say anything to him, but all of this seems… sudden."

"I'd never use a kind man," you began, letting a scoff leave your breath as you turned away, preparing yourself for the man to tug at your strings, again, "and Undertaker has put up with me ever since I showed up… Actually, we could say this was a little experiment. I wanted to know if he'd agree to me sleeping in his bed, with him, or not. Don't you know just how introverted the man is? Heck, it takes a lot of effort to get any sort of reactions out of him… except laughter, I guess," you decided to say, flinching as you felt the man tightening up your corset, but then he tied the back, tucking in the ends of the lacing, and you sighed in relief before turning away and making your way over to your wardrobe. "… Do you think I should avoid him, or something?"

"Oh. No, no," Vincent quickly spoke, chuckling nervously as you gave him a suspicious glance, before you turned your head and sighed to yourself, fishing out a bluish and black dress, with silver embroidery on the chest piece. "… It's just that I worry. You've seemed like a reasonable woman, and I let my wifie do as she pleased, but… I cannot help but wonder if this should be happening. I mean, he's ancient! And you're only twenty. Surely the age difference is too much of a gap," he decided to say, and you gave him a curious look before you smirked, slipping on your skirt half and tying the ends, making sure everything was in place before you moved on to your upper chest.

"Don't you have old as balls nobles who marry young eligible ladies? Or the other way around? It's not that odd," you told him, pausing for a moment before huffing as you continued to get dressed. "Besides, the age difference isn't what bothers me."

"… The fact that you're human and he's death," Vincent stated, rather then asked, and you simply sighed deeply to yourself.

"Yes, that. Especially that. The grim reapers think differently then us, Vincent. They'll do things us humans would think are immoral, but… what is scary is the thought that I'd be leaving him alone, when I die," you told him, not bothering to give the earl a glance as you finished up with your clothing, making your way over to the vanity dresser to look at yourself in the mirror as you put up your hair into a more tidied bun compared to your usual updos. "They live for centuries and can be hung up on a past love that had been around centuries prior. Sometimes, they can't even move on. It's heart breaking to watch. I've watched it, okay? It can deteriorate a reaper to the point that they're an emotionless husk that doesn't do a damn thing. Doesn't even live. Just, exists.

"I didn't want to fall in love, only to have to die and break the man's heart. I-I know I may seem a bit rash and strange and such, and honestly I was willing to just stay single for the rest of my life, but… I-I don't know. Last night… we talked and… I'm giving him a chance," you decided to say, casting Vincent a meek smile before you continued, "but if this doesn't work out, I doubt I'll be doing any sort of… what, courtship I guess, ever again. I've spent too much energy on love/hate relationships. I'm tired of having to deal with people who cannot keep up with me. Who just see me as a damn object that needs to be protected behind glass, or some bloody saint that can save them, whenever they're in a jam.

"I suppose if you need to say anything to Undertaker about this conversation, at least tell him not to treat me like I'm going to crock and die in a moment's notice. Besides, he's a grim reaper, so he should have some idea when I'd be dying, and it ain't today," you scoffed, finishing your hairdo by grabbing a ribbon from your sea of ribbons, a black and blue stripped ribbon, and you tied it around your bun to make it stylish, but also to keep your bun from becoming too loose, before you turned to Vincent and gave him a tired look. "So… are you done here or are there more questions?"

"… I suppose I'm done, for now," he huffed, but you gave him a sly smirk before slowly standing to your feet and grabbing a pair of black gloves to put onto your hands.

"So you say. Now, maybe you should leave the room before someone thinks we're fooling around, _hmmm~?_" you smirked slyly at him, causing the earl to huff at your words, but then he gave you a slight smirk in return.

"Says the young lady already caught in another man's bedroom."

"I'm not bothered by it. _Are you~?_" you smirked back, causing the man to huff once more, before he gave you an irritated look, followed by a tired sigh. "… How are your boys, by the way? Is the youngest still bedridden?"

"So far, no, but don't push anything onto him. I'm sure the boy will want to play games, even if it means he has another episode."

"I'll keep that in mind," you chuckled, watching as Vincent left the room, and then you sighed to yourself, closing your eyes as you sat back down in front of the vanity mirror, thinking to yourself.

Last night was so spontaneous, but… do you still want this? Undertaker promised you a lot, but… he is a reaper… and maybe…

Breaking up with him now would be better for him, before you truly break his heart and suddenly drop dead.

You sighed. There's no easy solution to this, is there? You still have to work with him, and honestly, the idea of courtship instead of simply 'hanging out' or just dating is intriguing. You are wondering what the man will come up with…

But he also knows that yesterday was your birthday… You don't know if you should be happy or terrified that he knows.

You sighed once more. This is too much to think about, before coffee or tea. You need some caffeine before you stress yourself out, too much, and then you'll be the bedridden one.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: HEY GUYS!**

**Well, this'll probably be the last chapter I post today. Maybe I'll post more tomorrow or on Tues? But, yeah. This is a good spot to pause the story. This 'Phantomhive arc' is only a few more chapters, and then we'll be heading back to Undertaker's shop.**

**If there's anything you want to see/read in particular, characters you'd like to see more of, do leave a COMMENT. **

**I'm hoping to start moving forward with the actual plot, with the story I originally want to write. Yep. This was all setting up to the actual plot. We'll be returning to the whole 'apocalypse' story. The time travel and what exactly happened. Why I've left certain things very, very vague. Though I may not be calling this a particular 'arc'. It may just be a new continuation… or maybe it'll become an arc? We'll see, but this 'Phantomhive arc' is kind of set apart from the plot I'm creating, so that's why I did that for this particular set of chapters.**

**We'll be exploring Clara's strange relationship between her reaper and human 'forms'. If they are called forms, personalities of herself, or just a different part of herself, honestly… I'm not even sure if I can describe it. But, we'll finally get to see what exactly has been 'locked' away… though, it'll take some time for her to truly show her true colors. The 'side of her she fears'. That sort of stuff.**

_**And also~**_**, I'm debating how I'll handle Undertaker/Clara's relationship, right now. If I'll have them jump into bed with each other, going much farther then just cuddling, or it's a gradual build up. I certainly know 'courtship' takes time, however, personally, I'm not the type of person to take so much time on a relationship, like that. And Undertaker is going to experience a side of Clara he hasn't seen, before. The real question is: how will he handle the new Clara? If he can accept everything.**

**There are some things I wanted to add, like an 'Easter' scene. That was chapters ago, if I was going to do that, but I wasn't ready to write that sort of stuff. I'm not far enough in the plot to do so. So, yeah. Maybe a Halloween special, though? Or a fall special, in the fall? Honestly, the year would have to pass into 1882 for me to get to that 'Easter special' I was thinking of doing… or even Christmas. I know some people do 'specials' in their stories, but since I'm going linear and I don't want to mess up the story too much, have the story go too quickly… things may just happen, when they do. Like Halloween. If I was going to have a 'special' for a particular holiday, in 1881, it'd be Halloween. Possibly Christmas… We'll see. **

**Anyways, that's where I'm at with this story. I decided to put this note at the end because it wasn't TOO important. But, I hope you guys are having a great weekend, and ENJOY your week! **


	27. Phantomhive Arc: The Game 1

**A/N: HEY GUYS! So, guess what, I'm not as overwhelmed this week as I thought. I'll be posting another chapter today, but maybe not another one. We'll see. But yeah! This week is going to be pretty busy at the store I work at, because it's Holy Week and everyone wants to buy Easter related stuff, so, after today I wasn't going to have a break, it felt like. But, I'm not working this thurs, which is great! Fantastic! Yes, I could be earning some extra money, but it was going to be stressed out otherwise. Nonstop working until sun, and then back to work on mon. That wasn't going to be fun at all.**

**Anyways, enough about that. **

**So, just to clarify, this 'game' I'm having the children play in this chapter goes by many names. It's a game I learned how to play at a camp I was working at, when I was a teen. The old game name for it was 'White Knight, Black Knight', but we changed it to 'Blue Knight, Red Knight' or whatever colors we came up with, because of the whole white and black racist stuff. Considering I'm half Filipino, half Polish, living in America. A first generation on my mother's side, and I think… it's a third/fourth generation on my father's [I'm pretty sure it's fourth], I don't exactly care about it. I'm more tan/yellow than anything else.**

**Yeah. I said it. I went there.**

**But anyways, so that's the game. I kind of tweaked it for the sake of the story, but it's pretty much that game. I'm not sure if there's a special name this game is actually called, but at the camp I had worked at, it was one of the favorite games the kids liked to play. Because you can play it for hours on end, and it honestly doesn't get very old… It does when you're the one having to come up with things for the kids to do, like skipping and running and whatever, because if everyone gets tagged out the game automatically ends, but for the kids it was fun. Because it's like tag, but not quite. If you have ten minutes to spare and you need time to kill, in the woods, that's something fun to do, or if it's thirty minutes. Or forty. You don't have to keep coming up with games, is what I'm saying here.**

**So yeah. There's that. If you guys have any questions on the game, you can comment, or look it up. I'm not even sure if it's an old game… or a newer game… but it's a fun game. You don't need anything to play it. Just a bunch of kids who want to burn built up energy. I may just post the next chapter later in the day, for the follow up to this 'game'… or wait till later. Depends on my mood. I am writing, currently, and I just decided to post a chapter because I have the time and energy to do so.**

**Okay. That's it! I hope you guys are ENJOYING your week!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Lady Clara Graves, these are my relatives, the Midfords. Sadly, your husband couldn't attend, dear sister?" Vincent asked in a curious tone, while the slightly shorter woman scoffed in response.

"Dear Alexis has his own business to attend to, but he should be joining us by dinner time," the woman stated, simply, before her gaze turned to you.

You tried not to grimace or give her an irritated smirk, but instead you did your best to smile, though not too widely. Damn, your nervous habits! This woman doesn't seem to want to play around, and you know **exactly** those sorts of beings.

"… Forgive my brother. He's terrible at introductions," the woman decided to say, casting her brother an irritated look while he grinned deviously in response, causing a huff to leave her breath.

"This is a casual gathering, dear sister. No need to be strict –"

"This is why people don't take you seriously, Vincent!" the woman scoffed, before sighing deeply, placing a couple of fingers upon her nose to calm herself, and then she sighed, letting in a deep breath, and you could tell she was composing herself into a dignified woman before continuing. "… I am Marchioness Francis Midford," she began, but before she continued you gave her a little curtsey.

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Lady Francis," you began, noticing the irritable look she gave you when you said 'lady', but heck, you despise using a person's title. It's just too much work to memorize all of that nonsense. "Your brother, Lord Vincent, told me a lot about you."

"**Did he?**" she asked, in a dark and irritated tone, but before Vincent could defend himself you continued with a light smile on your face, quickly standing back up straight to look her in her soft blue, almost silver eyes… huh.

You cannot help but wonder if Claudia was a spitting image of you, or not, for her daughter to have rather identical eyes, to your own… hmm…

"Vincent told me you are a very proud and intelligent woman, Lady Midford. Also, that you know your way around a sword," you decided to say, pausing as she, and her children who were watching this play out from the sidelines, gave you an intrigued glance as you continued with a light smile. "What do you call it, fencing? I've never fenced before, but personally I've been taught the arts of swordsmanship… but I'm not the best," you chuckled nervously. "I'm better at archery, the staff, and hand to hand combat, myself."

"Are you now?" she responded, casting Vincent a cautious glance, but he smirked and gave her a light nod, causing the woman to sigh deeply to herself. "Yes, well… Perhaps I can teach you."

"If you wish," you replied, causing her to nod before gesturing to her children.

"And this is my eldest son and daughter. Children, introduce yourselves," she ordered, rather then asked, but you decided to not let her get underneath your skin as you turned your attention to her children, which caused you to smile slightly at the bright smile on the girl's face.

"Hello! My name is Lady Elizabeth, Elizabeth Midford, but you can call me Lizzy!" she giggled, her blonde pigtails bouncing upon her shoulders, and her brother took a step forward and let out a tired sigh.

"And my name is Lord Edward Midford, the heir to the Midford household… Is it my understanding that you work with the Undertaker?" he asked, his sharp green eyes staring into your bright blue, and you gave him a light smile in return.

"Well, yes –"

"_She's my assistant~~_" you heard a familiar giggle, as a hand slumped onto your shoulder, and you could hear the irritated groan leaving Francis' breath while the boy looked disgusted, and the girl was a bit nervous and stood behind her brother, as if he was a shield. "_Good day~ little Francis~, gah hehehehehe~~_"

"Undertaker," she responded, almost spitting out the name as if it left a vile taste in her mouth, but you couldn't help but smirk at her initial reaction. "I didn't realize you were here, too."

"Well I –"

"Lady Phantomhive _insisted~_ that I come by the mansion to say hello, but I refused until Undertaker agreed to come with me. He's a bit of a hermit," you smirked, causing the wide grin on Undertaker's face to falter, slightly. "_Doesn't get out much~_. Figured social interactions would be good for him."

"Hmm… Good. At least you're helping the poor man," Francis stated, raising an eyebrow at the much taller man who just let out a tired sigh, causing her to lightly smirk. "My, I haven't seen you so… rattled, Lord Undertaker."

"I am not rattled," he responded, but before he could make a snappy comeback you decided to change the topic.

"So, little Midfords," you began, getting the children's attention as you turned to them and smiled lightly, "how long will you be staying?"

"Ah… I'm not quite sure. Mother?" you heard Edward ask, causing his mother to give Vincent an irritable look.

"Yes, how long? At the very most, only two days," Francis stated, promptly, causing the man to smirk.

"Sounds delightful to me –"

"Great. Well, the twins are in the garden. We're about to play a game. Want to join us?" you asked, causing the two children to look at each other, then at their mother.

Who sighed tiredly in response.

"If you wish, children… what sort of game?" she asked in a curious tone, but you simply smirked in response.

"_I don't know~_, yet. I'm going to teach the children a game I've played before. You're welcome to join us," you continued with a grin, causing the woman to sigh.

"Probably not –"

"Alright. Come on. I've kept the others waiting long enough," you responded, turning and already walking away from the conversation, and you noticed the two children looking to their mother, who nodded in approval, and they quickly rushed to follow you down the long hallways, towards the garden.

"I get to see Ciel!?" the girl excitedly giggled, causing her brother to groan in response.

"He's not exciting, sister. You shouldn't be so overjoyed –"

"Do you like him?" you asked, but the girl shrugged in response.

"Of course. We're engaged! At least, that's what mother says," Lizzy told you, and you nodded your head in response.

"I see… Well, I'm not familiar with the formalities of nobility. Anyways, I owe those twins one more game to play, and you, Edward, can help me."

"O-oh?" he responded in an unsure tone, but you gave him a sly smirk before continuing somberly.

"Yes. It'll be easy. Don't get worried. Besides, you're the oldest out of the bunch, so you can assist me."

"A-alright," he agreed, reluctantly, but you simply smiled in response.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"_Look who I brought~_" you grinned, and you heard an irritated groan from behind you as a little girl giggled and ran right past you.

"Ciel!"

"Lizzy!" the older of the twins exclaimed, the two of them giggling while the younger twin walked closer to you, tugging on the end of your dress with a worried look on his face.

"A-are you sure I can do this?"

"Are you still feeling under the weather?" you responded, kneeling down onto one knee to place your hand against his forehead, but all the blue haired, blue eyed boy did was stare at you with a bright blush on his cheeks, his blush growing redder at the content grin you gave him. "Well, if you're not feeling well you could sit this out –"

"N-no. I-I ah…" he blinked, looking past you at who you assume to be Edward, before giving you a determined look. "I don't want to make everyone feel bad."

"Okay then," you smirked, standing up and patting his head before you calmly made your way over to Tanaka, and you gave him a curious look. "You're here?"

"Supervising. My lord is curious about your little game," he told you, and you smiled in return.

"Okay. Well, after I go over the rules and we get started, you can get me a chair and a cup of water."

"Of course," he responded with a bow, but before anything else could interrupt you, you took off your gloves, tucking them underneath an arm, before you clapped your palms together to get the children's attention.

"Right, listen up! I promised a game I know, and while I don't personally know too many, there is one that I think you'll find interesting… and enjoyable until lunchtime," you stated, pausing for a moment before you looked over at Edward. "Edward, could you help me demonstrate, child?"

"Y-yes… but I'm not a child," he scoffed, causing you to slyly smirk at him.

"_Oh really~?_" you responded in a tone similar to Undertaker when he was about to tease you, and you continued with a light chuckle, "well fine. Since you're such _**an adult~**_, I'll change the rules, just for you."

"That's a look mum gives when she's going to scold daddy," Lizzy stated, but Edward scoffed and turned to his sister, while the twins seemed to be giggling to themselves over this new information.

"Don't sass me, sister –"

"Alright, alright!" you spoke up, interrupting the obvious argument that was going to arise, so you got straight to the point. "The game I'm thinking of playing is called… White Knight, Black Knight," you stated, waiting for the children to give each other confused looks, before Edward held up his hand. "… Yes Edward?"

"I've never heard of it," he stated promptly, causing his sister to let out a surprised gasp.

"You don't!?" she responded, and you couldn't help but smirk at the quiet twins as they watched the scene unfold, hand grasping the other as they glanced to you and Tanaka, wondering if you're going to say something or not.

"W-why no," Edward responded with an embarrassed blush, but you let a cough leave your breath as you held your fist up to your hand, and he turned to you with a pout on his face. "Is that one of those American games?"

"_Actually~_, it's a game my friends and I came up with when I was y'aih high," you grinned, holding your hand to your side, about the same height as Elizabeth actually is, before you continued, "and a combination of other stuff. You can call the game Red Knight, Blue Knight, or even reverse the colors and say Black Knight, White Knight. It doesn't matter. The game play is still the same."

"So," the oldest twin began, after being nudged by his younger half to prompt him to ask the question in the first place, "what are the rules?"

"Good question, Ciel," you stated, before you turned to Edward and gave him a coy smirk, causing the boy to instinctively flinch under your gaze. "… Edward, you ready?"

"N-not really –"

"The game is a combination of a few games. Mainly, tag," you began, giving the children a moment to digest as you continued. "We have two teams, the White Knights, and the Black Knights, and you need one other person to be the announcer… or prompter. It's a _very~_ difficult task," you told them with a smirk, before putting a hand upon your chest. "Since I know how to play, I'll sit this round out and you children can play. The goal is to get as many people on your side, as you can. It's like tag.

"So, what I'll be doing is giving you kids a task. For example, I may say, White Knights, take six steps, by hopping. So," you grinned, holding up a foot and jumping up and down, while holding up your skirt slightly as you did so you wouldn't trip, "you jump once, twice, and you get the picture for six steps. So, one," you began, jumping and getting closer to the children, "two," you smirked as Edward flinched as you began to get closer, "three, four, five, and six!" you exclaimed, stopping right in front of the boy and causing him to yelp, just slightly. "And now, let's say Edward is a Black Knight. If I tag him," you continued, patting him on top of the head and causing a scoff to leave his breath, while you grinned deviously at his irritation, "he's now a White Knight.

"I will declare which team is the taggers, and which are the runners. And, I have every right in my authority to change which team tags, and which runs away and avoid the other team… You guys will get it once we start playing. It's easier to play the game, then to explain it," you stated, giving Edward another quick pat on the head before taking a few steps away, "though the _real~ question_ is, Edward," you continued, causing the boy to give you a pout, "are you going to insist that you are a child, or an adult?"

"An adult, of course," he scoffed, but the grin you gave him, crude and devious, and the slight chuckle Tanaka made at the sight of your suddenly revealed mischievous nature, caused the boy to gulp in response. "W-what?"

"Fine. You see, _considering the age difference~,_ children get the extra advantage. Plus, adults have longer strides," you told him, "so, _**considering you're an adult~**__,_ if I say you can take, for example, eight steps, you can only take four. You must divide the number I give… if you insist on being an adult, that is," you decided to say, and he huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I am."

"Do you know how to divide numbers?" you asked, but he scoffed.

"Of course! –"

"Great. Then, for another example, if I say three, you only take one and a half steps. _It's only fair~_, if you're an adult against children… Can you agree to those terms?" you asked in a curious tone, and you heard the boy huff underneath his breath, followed by a tired sigh.

"Yes ma'am."

"Great. Oh, one more thing," you continued, holding up a finger before the children could think about their 'strategies'. "My friends and I also have this thing we call 'time out'. A time out is when you need to take a break because you're thirsty or need to breathe. You can take a break whenever you wish," you continued, glancing to the twins, the youngest to be specific, and casting them a devious smirk, "_buuut~_, you cannot use a time out to get out of being tagged. You go like this," you told them, making a 'T' with your hands, "and say, I call a time out! And if I allow it, you can sit down and take a break. And don't worry, you can start where you were at when you come back to the game. Plus," you chuckled, giving them a cheeky grin, "I've used time outs a lot, myself. I get shortness of breath if I run around too much.

"Now, do you understand?" you decided to say, clasping your hands together as you set your gloves down on the grassy ground, and the children gave each other slightly unsure looks. "… Okay. Great!" you grinned, pretending that they weren't giving each other confused glances as you continued. "Edward," you began, getting the boy's attention, "you will be a Black Knight. And everyone else is the White Knights. Black Knights are it!" you shouted, causing the twins to jump, but Edward simply give you an embarrassed look in return. "The White Knights have five seconds to get away. One!" you began, the children giving each other confused looks before the younger one grabbed his brother's hand.

"Come on!" the younger twin shouted, tugging his older brother away.

"Two!"

"Lizzy!" Ciel shouted, causing the girl to giggle and run off, waving to her brother as he let out an irritable groan.

"Three!... Four, five! Stop!" you shouted, causing the children to stop, and you paused before turning your attention to Edward. "Okay… let's start! Black Knights, take six steps, hopping forward!"

"A-ah… okay!" he responded, holding up a foot and jumping forward

But before he could take a fourth hop you quickly shouted, "Stop!"

He yelped, quickly putting his foot down, and he gave you a nervous glance, but you just grinned and gave him a thumbs up. "Good job!" you shouted, before continuing, "White Knights, eight steps, backward!"

"Backward?!" you heard Lizzy shout, but you smirked.

"You have to step backwards!" you told her, but the younger twin nudged the other two, turning on his heels so his front was facing Edward, and his back was towards the other side of the large grassy field.

"Like this," he stated, stepping backward, then another, and Ciel and Lizzy nodded to each other, grinning, before following his same actions.

"… Okay! Stop! That was eight!" you told them, causing the children to freeze, and you turned to Edward. "Okay, Black Knights, fifteen steps, zigzagging!"

"Zigzagging?" he questioned you, but you smirked, walking over to him.

"You take a step to the one side," you began, taking a large leap to your left, "then, to the other side," you continued, leaping to your right, "and you do that for fifteen steps, or in your case, half of fifteen."

"… Seven and a half?" he asked, and when you gave him a nod he quickly nodded in return. "O-okay! –"

"Go! Black Knights, go!" you shouted, your voice causing the boy to jolt, but he began to jump and step to the side, causing the other children to yelp in response. "… I do enjoy this game, the most," you chuckled, glancing to Tanaka, while he gave you a curious look in return.

"A very interesting game indeed –"

"And what's great about it is you can have someone who sits around and gives the others orders to do. It's a good way to let our asthmatics get involved, without them having to run and get too exhausted," you stated, before you turned back to the game. "Okay! White Knights, two steps, hopping!"

"Only two?!" you heard Ciel shout, but you grinned deviously.

"Yes! Two!"

"Let's go!" Lizzy shouted, grabbing Ciel's hand and jumping off to the side, the younger twin following, though his jumps weren't has big as theirs, and you smiled lightly at the scene.

You miss this. You honestly do…

But hey. These children are certainly adorable, and you wonder if you can keep this game going until lunchtime.

… You wonder when lunchtime is.


	28. Phantomhive Arc: The Game 2

**A/N: HEY GUYS! While I had today off, I spent it having a bit of fun, but now, after some sleep and rest, I decided to review another chapter in this story.**

**This is just a continuation of the previous chapter. Honestly, if I was in a better mood the last time I posted, I would have posted his chapter right after it, but I was tired, and I kind of still am. And I may not post another chapter for a while. But fear not! I'm currently writing a very intense set of chapters, and I have my story kind of set back on track… At least it's pertaining back to the plot, again. After this arc I kind of lose my direction, but now I have a clear idea of where I want to go from here.**

**Anyways, this is just children having fun. I would have written more, but honestly I didn't want this particular game to take up more then just 2 chapters, at the most. In the next chapter we kind of explore how Undertaker and Clara feel about these Phantomhives, and after that we'll be returning home! **

**But yes! ENJOY this fun chapter! It starts to get a bit dreary and filled with a tad bit of drama, after this arc. **

**And lastly, as I've said before, anything that is **_**bold and italicized is spoken in a different language**_**. I've tried to write down what sort of language that may be in the story, for example Japanese or Italian. That sort of stuff. However, if there is some words I've translated from google, I'll be placing them at the end of the chapter. Just so you're aware. I probably won't explain this a second time, but yeah!**

**You guys ENJOY the rest of your Holy Week, and hopefully I can post more later… but tomorrow? Maybe, maybe not. I may just want to sleep in before I go to work, and if I don't feel great on sat it may not happen till Easter. **

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Aigh!"

"Ciel, sorry!" Lizzy apologized, chuckling nervously as the boy laid on the ground, groaning in pain after being tagged.

"Alright! Child, are you alright!?" you shouted, hearing a slight 'yeah' as you continued. "Okay. White Knights, five steps, skipping!"

"Come on Ciel!" Lizzy giggled, holding out her hand before her eyes narrowed at her brother. "We're going to get you!"

"H-hey! I'm not the only Black Knight, here," Edward scoffed, only to flinch as his sister drew closer, but when she couldn't tag him, he sighed lightly in response.

"… Black Knights, you have five seconds to run! One!" you began, watching as Edward and the younger Phantomhive twin took off, each in a different direction, "Two!" you continued, pausing dramatically as little Lizzy and Ciel let out tired, irritable groans. "Three!... Four, five! Stop!" you shouted, causing the boys to stop, and you watched as the younger twin panted, deeply, compared to the older Edward. "… Okay! White Knights, six steps, backward!"

"You go after your brother and I'll go after mine," Ciel spoke in a calculating tone of voice, and the young girl nodded.

"Okay! I'm going to get you Edward!" Lizzy giggled, turning and taking large dramatic steps, while her brother breathed, deeply, trying to catch his breath.

But before you could admire the scene even more, you felt a tap on your shoulder, causing you to sigh contently. "Ah. Arigatō, Tanaka-sensei."

"Dōitashimashite," he smiled, handing you a cup of cooled water, and you took a few sips, sighing contently at the cool, refreshing feeling, before you turned your attention to the children.

"… Okay! Black Knights, ten steps, leaping!"

"Leaping?!" you heard Edward ask, but you grinned deviously.

"Take long, leaping steps, Edward!" you stated, and you noticed the younger twin nodded, before he began to move, trying to move as much as possible to escape his older twin. With a grin you sipped on your drink, letting the cool, refreshing water lubricate your vocal cords… only to feel arms wrap around your shoulders, and you let out an annoyed snort. "Hello?"

"_**Elllooo~!**_" Undertaker giggled, causing you to groan and nudge at his grip, only to give up and scoff, gulping down some more of your water as he chuckled against your ear. "You look to be having fun, my dear."

"I am. We are… Is it lunchtime?" you asked in a curious tone, but he snickered in response.

"Not that I know of –"

"Undertaker, could you please not grab your assistant in such a manner. I doubt the woman enjoys it," you heard Lady Francis scoff from behind you, and you turned to notice Lady Rachel and… a redheaded woman… dressed in bright red. Must be that Madame Red, which is her younger sister.

"Mum!" you heard Lizzy shouting, giggling as she waved to her mother, and the woman sighed, waving back at her children, while you gave them a curious look.

"Are you here for a reason?" you decided to ask, but Francis let out a slight scoff.

"Yes. We must wait for lunch, but we were hearing the children laughing in the garden. We decided to investigate. Am I right Rachel?"

"Yes Lady Midford," the blonde woman spoke with a smile, but after you shoved your glass of half drunken water into Undertaker's grasp, the slight surprise causing his grip to loosen, and you managed to pry yourself free before you took a few steps, clasping your hands together with a grin on your face.

"Well, you can join us if you wish," you decided to say, but Francis let out a scoff.

"Now, why would we? This is a child's game –"

"And apparently your son is an adult, but I'm letting him play," you stated, pointing over to the boy who was looking at the group of adults with a suspicious gaze, but you continued. "All you have to do is agree to play. Rachel, you can assist me if you wish."

"I-if you want?... How do we play?" she asked, her curious tone causing Francis to let out an irritable sigh, but you turned to Tanaka and gave him a light smile.

"Could you bring out a chair and maybe an umbrella? And even a little foldable table, if you want," you asked, and he bowed slightly in response.

"Of course, Lady Graves," he responded, before giving his own lady a bow. "Milady. I shall be back in a moment."

"Take your time, Mr. Tanaka," Rachel responded, but her sister let a thoughtful 'hmm' leave her breath.

"… So, you shout various orders and have the children run around."

"In a way. It's like a game of tag, except the speaker, myself, gets to control how much movement the children really do… You can watch for a few times, and then I'll have you join," you stated, before you turned, ignoring the adults, including Undertaker for that matter, and sucked in a deep breath, before using your 'outdoor' voice. "Alright!" you shouted, and you smirked when you noticed the others, including Undertaker, flinching slightly at your loud, booming, authoritative voice, but you continued. "The adults wish to play, but we'll finish this game, then start a new one. Alright?!"

"Y-yeah!"

"Yes!"

You heard them shouting from the other side of the field, and you grinned as you continued.

"Four more chances!... Okay, Black Knights, two steps, to the left!" you spoke, and you heard Edward groan as he took a very large step to the left, pouting as his sister giggled excitedly into her hands. "… Just so you know, in order to be fair, the children move the exact number that I say, like two steps for two, but an adult can only move half those steps, like Edward did. He could only take one step, since I said two," you stated over your shoulder, before you continued. "Alright! White Knights, four steps, hopping!"

"Watch out!" you heard Ciel yell, his brother flinching as he got close, but he sighed in relief when his brother couldn't reach him.

"Nice try! Black Knights, last chance! Seven steps, zigzagging!" you shouted, watching as the two boys ran off, trying to cover more ground, and you could tell Edward was going to get caught.

Especially after this last one.

"… White Knights, six steps, skipping!" you spoke, watching in amusement as Lizzy practically jolted, leaping and slapping her brother in the arm, and he let out a whine, not because he was hit, but because he was tagged.

"Ah, darn!" you heard Ciel speak, his sibling let out a relieved sigh while you smirked, turning your attention to the adults.

"Not too hard, am I right? Once you figure out the basics," you decided to say, before you shouted, "Okay! Bring it in! You kids come back over here!" you spoke, before you snatched the glass of water from Undertaker's grasp, and he snickered lightly in response.

"_Interesting game~. Did you learn this in America~~?_"

"… You do understand I used to take care of orphans, don't you? And besides, I've played White Knight, Black Knight as a child. It was a lot more fun, and I can keep a better eye on everyone," you stated, sighing as the children finally made their way back to the group.

"I won," you heard the younger twin state, holding up his arms for his mother, and Rachel chuckled, picking up her sickly child as the other tugged on the end of her dress.

"Only because you ran off!" Ciel scoffed, but you patted the kid on the head, causing him to pout in response.

"That's the point of the game, now isn't it? Besides, everyone got tagged, at least once," you stated, and you gave Tanaka a light smile as he came up the ridge, a younger butler helping him by holding two chairs, but you noticed Vincent was helping with a pitcher of water in his hand and two empty glasses between his fingers. "Arigatō," you stated, causing Tanaka to grin before giving you a slight bow.

"Ah… Lady Graves," you heard Lizzy ask, tugging on your own dress to get your attention. "What did you just say?"

"Ari gatō. It means, thank you, in Japanese," you stated, patting the top of her head, smirking as she tried to say the words, until you knelt down in front of her. "Ar."

"A-ar?"

"Ari," you continued, pausing and waiting for her to reply.

"Air… Air i."

"Ari. Got," you continued, and you gave her mother a glance before you turned your attention back to the girl.

"Aria got."

"Ari gatō," you spoke, slowly, but as smoothly as possible.

"… Airi goto," she responded, and you patted the top of her head.

"Good job. Now, why don't you get some water," you stated, scooting the girl over towards the boys as they hastily drank the glasses of water, determined to get back to their game, and you stood back to your feet, sighing, before turning your attention to the redhead. "I'm sorry. I don't believe we've been introduced, yet?"

"My apologies," the woman stated, but before she could continue Rachel grabbed her shoulders, leaning over and giggling.

"This is my younger sister, Baroness Angelina Dalles-Burnett. Also known as Madame Red, or little Anne!" she giggled, causing her sister to outright groan.

"Rachel, you don't need to call me Anne –"

"Well, my name is Lady Clara Graves, but you can just call me Lara," you stated, causing the woman to smile lightly.

"Of course. You can call me Anne… I suppose," she sighed, causing Rachel to giggle, poke her nose, before walking away back to her children. "… You are that Undertaker's assistant?" she asked, pointing to the black cloaked man as he loomed over the children, scaring the two twins and Lizzy while Vincent and Rachel laughed, and Francis growled before shoving the man to the side and yelling at Vincent about laughing at the situation.

"Yes I am."

"Not to sound disgusted, but how can you work in such a grotesque place? A funeral parlor is no place for a lady," she asked, but you shrugged your shoulders in reply.

"I've grown up with the dead, Lady Anne. I'm not bothered by the grim reality the end of our lives will bring us… Now, maybe you could tell me what you know about asthma? Your sister told me you're the doctor in the family," you decided to say, causing the redhead to blush, just slightly.

"O-of course. If you wish –"

"Can we get back to playing?!" you heard Ciel and Lizzy cheer, suddenly in front of you and standing between you and the madame, and you chuckled at their enthusiasm.

"_Maybe~~_… Are you ready?" you asked, turning to the other boys, and the twin gave you a quick nod, and Edward scoffed.

"Yes. We are ready –"

"Great! Then, we'll keep the same teams as before. However, the Black Knights are now it," you stated, before turning to the adults. "Vincent, you will be a Black Knight, too," you decided to say, before pointing to Francis and Undertaker, "and Lady Francis and Undertaker, you will be White Knights. Rachel, you're helping me out, and Lady Anne would you like to stay here or play with the children?" you asked in a curious tone, causing the redhead to sigh to herself.

"Come on, Anne. It'll be fun," Rachel smiled sweetly, causing the woman to sigh to herself.

"… Alright. I'll join –"

"Great! Then, you can be a Black Knight. That'll even things out, a bit," you stated, turning to the children. "Okay kids! These adults don't know what to do, so you teach them the ropes."

"W-we'll try," Ciel responded, but Edward took a confident step towards his mother.

"It is easy, mother. Nothing compared to swordsmanship," he stated, causing Francis to sigh to herself.

"If you say so, Edward."

"Okay! Let's get this started! Like before, we'll stay within the boundaries of this wide open field. Don't go into the trees! White Knights, you have eight seconds to run… One!" you began, pausing for a moment as you watched Ciel and Lizzy run off, getting as far away from the group as possible.

"Come on mother," Edward stated, tugging on his mother's arm, before he also began to move, though he wasn't running. More like lightly jogging, making sure his mother was actually participating in the game.

"Bye love," Undertaker spoke, suddenly giving you a quick kiss on the cheek, and you shouted at him.

"Two, you ass! Three, you dumbass!" you scoffed, groaning as he laughed and ran away, though he was skipping instead of running, and you rubbed at your cheek, grumbling underneath your breath while you heard both Rachel and Vincent giggling at your irritation. "Four!... Five, six!... Seven… Eight! Stop!" you shouted, before you calmly turned your attention to the other three. "You ready?"

"Yes!" the youngest twin shouted, excited to be on the tagging team, apparently, and you smirked as Vincent chuckled, patting the top of his son's head.

"Fine. Black Knights, nine steps, forward!"

"Let's go! Y-you can only move… ah, four and a half steps, father. Right, Lady Lara?"

"Yes sir," you smirked at the boy, before giving the three an expectant look, and as they began to move, you turned to Rachel and smiled to her. "You may sit down, Lady Rachel."

"Y-you don't have to give me any special treatment –"

"I'm not," you stated, watching as Tanaka handed the woman the opened umbrella, before you continued. "My throat is getting sore from shouting, so you'll be helping me. I'll call out the Black Knights orders, and you give the White Knight orders. It's fun, but you tend to lose your voice over it," you chuckled, rubbing at your neck as she gave you a nervous smile.

"A-are you sure? –"

"I don't have to be the one doing this. Anyone can. As long as there's more then… three people? You can play this game. And besides, I'd like to run around too," you told her, grinning, and she nodded in response.

"Sounds delightful."

"Great. Well, it's your turn. If you don't want to shout, I can do it for you," you stated, and she nodded in response.

"A-ah… White Knights!" Rachel began, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Ahm… Four steps!... aumm… jumping?"

"Jumping! Four steps, jumping!" you shouted to get their attention, and you watched with a smirk as the group of six jumped around in the field. "… Okay! Black Knights, six steps, zigzagging!"

"Zigzagging? –"

"Like this," the younger twin stated, taking a step to one side, then the other. "You step to one side, then to the other, while going forward."

"Good, son," Vincent smirked, doing as his son instructed him to do, until you heard a frantic giggle.

"Got you!" Anne giggled, causing Lizzy to giggle uncontrollably.

"Oh darn! Sorry Ciel."

"It's alright. You can tag me next, I hope," the older twin spoke, causing you to grin, only to glance to Rachel, giving her a nudge, and she nodded her head.

"O-oh. White Knights!... Nine steps, running!"

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Arigatō [Japanese] – thanks

Dōitashimashite [Japanese] – you're welcome


	29. Phantomhive Arc: The Past and Future 5

**A/N: HEY GUYS! I hope you're having a great Holy Week, and a great Easter!**

**My week has been… exhausting, but also nicely exciting. I did Tenebrae on thurs and fri, but sat was pushing it for me, and I was working fri and sat. So, waking up at 4am in the morning and staying awake all day was exhausting, but personally worth it. I think it was. And I enjoy singing/chanting at church. **

**But anyways, I'm going to try to post the next two chapters before/during Easter. I have the time, and this is almost the end to the Phantomhive arc. Also, the second scene is an Undertaker POV. **

**While I did say earlier I may be adding some lemons, as of right now I don't think I will… yet. I don't want to feel obligated to add sex scenes to this story, and I'm finally advancing in the plot. Maybe later, though. I'm currently writing chapter 45, and anything sexual isn't going to be happening between Undertaker and Clara… yet. Maybe later, but not yet. So for any fans for lewd writing, I'm sorry that I won't be doing that… for a while. There's tension, sure, but nothing lemony. Maybe limey, but not lemony. **

**And lastly, **_any 'memories' or maybe dream sequences too, I'm not quite sure yet, will be italicized, only. The entire scene italicized_**, to tell it apart from the mere thoughts of the characters. Just so you guys know. Or daydreaming, perhaps. I haven't fully decided if this italicization will apply to every 'dream like' thought, or just recalling a memory in a vivid way, or maybe just day dreaming.**

**Yeah. And that's about it, I think. I work in a chocolate shop, and I've been decorating choco eggs ALL week. I have a hand cramp, now, and a sugar high, but that's okay! Because Easter is finally here! And, I can sleep longer then I have been, at least… Even if it's only a couple extra hours. It's still better then only… well, I've only had about 5hrs of sleep, between 2 and a half days. Well, you guys ENJOY the rest of your week! And see you later!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Awww! B-but –"

"Vincent can play with you," you told Lizzy, patting the top of her head while you heard the man let out a cough.

"W-what? Me? –"

"Yes! Father, let's play!" Ciel cheered, giggling as he jumped into his father's side, causing the man to let out an 'oof!' while his wife and her sister giggled into her gloved hands, while Francis eyed you suspiciously.

You simply smiled contently.

W-wow… this must be how it feels to live in a big family. Constant noise, laughter, and… happiness.

But, slowly, you reached for your chest, sucking in a deep breath as you tried to calm your nerves. Why does this hurt, so much?

… Because Claudia isn't here, to enjoy this.

Well, in a way, she is here, but it isn't the same. She would have loved to torment Vincent, praise Francis, and enjoy the company of dear Rachel. She would have loved to see her grandchildren grow up… With little Edward, who acts more like Francis then herself, Lizzy who can laugh… like him. The twins, complete opposites, with one being happy and joyful, loud and obnoxious, while the other is quiet, composed, yet terribly shy…

This just… it hurts, realizing that.

Geeze… even when she isn't here to torment you and whisper in your ear, she can sure make you emotional.

Slowly, you reached for your tea, sipping as you watched the scene from across the table, watching the recently growing family as they laughed and yelled at each other, and you closed your eyes… only for a moment…

_To find yourself in a completely different place, in a completely different scene._

_You frowned, looking down at yourself, noticing that your dress had changed. That your figure was completely different. You didn't feel like a twenty year old, and your clothes were much more vibrant. Colorful. Full of life._

_But… you know why you're here. _

_You've seen this scene before, many times over, and it's never anything you'd tell even the Undertaker about._

_It would absolutely break his heart._

_You turned… only to see someone behind you, blade in their hand as they held it up, stabbing down into your chest._

_It wasn't… human…_

_But you trusted her… and…_

_It broke your heart that she could betray you, like this._

_Tears streamed down your face as you gripped at her shoulders, letting out a painful cry as she stabbed you, again and again, again… and again… to make sure you were dead and lying on the ground, in a pool of your own blood._

_You could see your precious little baby's face as he ran up to you, crying, wailing in desperation for you to stay alive. Just… stay. Don't leave, but stay!_

_You ran your hand over his chunky cheek, seeing the tears stream down his bright brown eyes, and you wiped at the little mole in the corner of his face._

_So… adorable…_

_But… you couldn't stay. Your life was ending, and as you shakily breathed, noticing a familiar figure, crying, silently as he saw you lying on the floor, your blood bleeding into the carpeting…_

_You couldn't help yourself. You began to cry, too._

"_I-I… I love you," you managed to speak, your shaky hands managing to hug your grieving son, and while you were in a lot of pain, you couldn't stop yourself from sobbing, shaking, continuing to mourn for yourself. For your family. For the life you had built… _

_You can… only pray to whatever is listening that this is all worth it. Your life was worth something…_

_Something… anything! _

"_Death… t-take me… please," you spoke, reaching weakly for the blade the figure wielded, cloaked in utter darkness… but… so bright. So…_

_Beautiful._

_He was so beautiful. You don't want to leave._

_You don't want to!_

_But… you could… feel the blade… slicing into your hand. Just a little nick. Barely noticeable, unless you were looking hard enough…_

_And… it all…_

_Went… black…_

_You leaned backward, feeling your body, your figure, your soul floating… as if you were swimming in absolute nothingness…_

_It was… soothing… but… _

_You needed to wake, you… _

_You need to get up._

_Get up!_

Your eyelids slowly opened, blinking as you noticed where you are. In the Phantomhive mansion, sitting in their dining room, chatting about unimportant things, and enjoying the company that was in this room.

You aren't… Claudia, but as you looked at Vincent, a sad look overcame your features.

Why…

Why is it always a Phantomhive? So much… trauma.

Why is everything so traumatic?

You sighed to yourself, letting out a yawn and wiping at your eyes as if you were tired, but in reality you were trying to wipe away any stray tears. Any sadness that was on your face.

You breathed… composed yourself, before turning to a little boy as he tugged at your dress, getting your attention. "Lady Lara, c-can we do something?" he asked, a nervous look on his face until his brother joined him, tugging at his twin's arm.

"Is something the matter? –"

"I'm tired as well," you stated, the two boys staring at you with wide eyes as you put a hand on your chest, but you grinned lightly, "so yes, we can do something while we wait for dinner. Ciel, can you make sure your father behaves himself?" you asked, and you watched as the two boys gripped each other's hands, one hand in the other as they gave each other looks.

But the youngest nodded his head, weakly, causing the older twin to grin happily in return. "Sure! I'll keep daddy in line."

"What was that?!" you heard Vincent ask, hollering across the table, only for Ciel to run around the table, grabbing his father's arm. "W-what? –"

"Father! Let's play!" Ciel giggled excitedly, causing the man to sigh deeply while you smirked, suddenly standing to your feet as you picked up his younger twin, causing the boy to wrap his arms around your neck, clinging to your upper body.

"Undertaker, we're going to spend time in the library. Is that alright?" you asked, but the man simply smirk in response.

"_Of course you can~_. I won't dream of stopping you," he told you, and you gave him a slight nod, but you could tell he was suspicious about… something.

Probably over the fact that you started to tear up, but you ignored your pain, your emotions, your thoughts, and instead you turned your attention to the youngest twin.

The one that'll end up being your ancestor…

The one who will… end up starting this whole demonic mess…

But hey. It's nice to experience this boy before he has to be cold. Shut off his emotions…

Like… every single heir to the Phantomhive household. Holding the Phantomhive name. It's inevitable, and it sucks… but it'll happen.

Regardless if you wish you could stop this fate or not.

If it doesn't happen, you won't be born. Heck, the Phantomhive family will end with the twins, but… if you let it happen…

It still hurts.

You're not an emotionless doll.

You're a living, breathing human with thoughts and feelings, and fears and dreams. It's scary…

But you need to enjoy this moment, while it lasts. Before everything goes to absolute shit. Before you lose everything and everyone. Before…

You lose yourself, in this mess you call an existence.

"So, what shall we do? Play chess? Read a book? Maybe play with toys?"

"Books, please… I-If you want," the boy told you, and you gave him a grin as you left the dining room and began to walk down the hallway.

"Of course. I have the perfect book in mind," you told him, and you tried not to look so… happy.

A little part in your gut wanted to reassure the boy that everything will be okay. That, no matter what happens, he'll still be loved. Even if he's alone, he's never truly alone.

But…

That's not you. That's Claudia giving you those thoughts.

And… you sighed. It's frustrating. Maybe it's because her death date was yesterday? That your strange powers seem to be heightened around this particular time?

You decided not to let this bother you…

But it is. This is bothering you, and you don't know why.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Things have been… strange since last night.

Is it just me, or am I seeing Claudia's ghost?

Lingering, beside Clara, as the activities of the day progress forward. Moving her locks of hair so her bangs weren't in her face. Giggling as the children ran around in the field. And… looking terribly sad, yet content, as she watched the family sitting down at the dining table, eating their lunch.

She disappeared along with Clara…

Is the girl even noticing?

I would have to think so, considering, every single time the spirit seems to appear, the girl becomes sad… or happy. Whatever emotion that ghost seems to be having, Clara suddenly feels the same way.

I couldn't stop the tired sigh that left my breath, as I pondered this predicament.

It must be because she is here, at the Phantomhive mansion… on the eve of Claudia's late death. Should I be sad to see her… or delighted? Or… is this something else?

There's still a lot about that child I do not know. Sure, she's a descendent of the Phantomhives. She's a half breed. She's, apparently, Claudia's incarnation. But…

There is a lot she keeps quiet. Like, her time with the grim reapers. The apocalypse. The anxiety she seems to have, over minor details that I personally wouldn't find problematic. The fact that… she's sad, all the time. She doesn't say so, but I can see it, in her eyes.

She's so unhappy. I wish there was a way I could fix this –

"Undertaker?" I heard a voice, a very familiar voice. Strict and stern, yet a strange gentleness was laced in her critical tone.

Much like Claudia.

"… Yes?" I decided to ask, only to be tugged to my feet, and I gave the woman a confused look.

"Let's talk," she told me, my gaze noticing that the rest of the humans seemed to have left the dining room, off to do activities around the estate. However, the woman stayed behind… for me.

I should be delighted, but… I'm not.

I let her lead me into the hallway, eventually letting go of my arm before she began to walk down the hallway, expecting me to follow, as she let out a tired sigh. "… Do you love this woman? Clara?" she asked, so bluntly, that I couldn't stop myself from chuckling lowly.

"I suppose so. Why?"

"I'm simply worried. You haven't been yourself, since I arrived. You don't seem… happy," she stated, and I smirked.

These children… can see right through me, can't they? No wonder they're Phantomhives, regardless if the young girl changed her surname or not.

"You can always tell, can't you lovely Francis?" I grinned, noticing the slight blush on her face at my nickname for her, and the scoff that left her breath, but I let my feet move forward, though my mind was thinking about something else entirely. "I am… but I am not, as well."

"It is because yesterday was my mother's death date, isn't it?" she stated, in which I nodded my head, slightly, and she sighed to herself. "… Look, Undertaker, I may not understand the full extent of your relationship with my mother, but you should move on. It's been fifteen years… What about that assistant of yours? Ms. Graves? Maybe you should pursue that relationship," she told me, but I could only smirk in amusement.

"_My, my~_. Is little Francis advising that an ancient creature such as myself should corrupt a _poor, helpless~ human?_" I grinned, but she scoffed in disgust.

"Shut it. I'm being serious, sir… I can tell that Clara strangely cares, about you. That doesn't normally happen. Humans naturally avoid death, after all… What is she?" she asked, but all I could do is put a finger to my lips, smirking at the irritable sigh that left her breath. "… Is she not human?"

"She is and she is not. An interesting entity… but she **is** human. Especially at this very moment," I decided to say, in Clara's defense, and the woman gave me an intrigued look, before closing her eyes and sighing deeply to herself. "… Why?"

"If you are uninterested in her… Vincent and I have been chatting about the woman. We… feel compelled to help her," Francis sighed to herself, scoffing slightly at the idea, but she continued, "so… if you do not wish to involve yourself with a human, there are some eligible, good hearted gentlemen that I know from several social circles. I can introduce the woman to them, if you think it's acceptable," she stated, pausing as she turned, her gaze looking me over.

Watching my reaction… waiting for a reaction.

And she raised a curious eyebrow as I sighed to myself, though it sounded more like a huff, I noticed, then just a simple breath of air. "I… would personally like it if you do not. However, you should be asking dear Clara. Not myself. It is her business, not mine."

"Hmm… I had a feeling you'd say such a thing," she scoffed, my gaze looking over at her, watching her bright bluish/silver eyes blink as she thought. They look so cold… so… dark, but so familiar.

Yet, so different. It's not the same as I look into Clara's lovely gaze.

Even if their eye color is almost identical.

"Then tell me," she continued, stepping into a drawing room and I followed her inside. I watched as she walked to a couch and calmly sat down, facing me and expecting me to join her, "what do you wish to do with this girl? What are your intentions? Regardless if she's human or otherwise, should you really pursue her? Aren't you her boss? There will be gossip, Undertaker. You can ruin her reputation, as well as your own, if you pursue your own assistant," she stated, promptly, waiting for me to say something.

Slowly, I sat down across from her, my eyes gazing off towards the wall, though my thoughts were elsewhere. "… I'm not the one who is insisting," I began, pausing for a moment before I sighed tiredly to myself. "I… I promised myself I wouldn't fall in love again. Yet, here I am, betraying myself," I scoffed, an irritable look crossing my face, but then I turned to the woman, letting my eerie greenish/golden eyes peek through my long gray bangs. "Betraying your mother.

"But, love is unpredictable. I'm simply attracted to you humans. You're so… intriguing. Unbound, constantly changing… One moment you are happy, the next you are sad or angry. I've enjoyed the fact that I get to live amongst you… and that girl," I chuckled lowly to myself, turning my gaze away as I began to lean my arm on the armrest, staring off towards the wall as I thought about her intriguing soul, "understands… us reapers. Understands me in a way I cannot even comprehend… I feel terrible. I'm probably holding the girl back, but… I cannot help myself.

"I truly am a monster," I frowned at the thought, only to hear the woman scoff at my words.

"I've seen monsters. **You** are not one of them," she began, pausing for a moment before continuing in a calm, collected tone of voice. "… My mother would be happy, if she knew you were moving on, after her death. I don't understand why you cared about her so much, about Vincent and I, but I do know that mother would be happy, if you are happy.

"But, you need to put in some effort," she scoffed, causing my eyes to glance over at her as she sat back into the couch, losing her composure, just slightly. "I've watched you, Undertaker. You wait too long. Far too long for anything productive to happen. If this girl loves you, do not hide those emotions. Woo the woman. Court her. Do not spend decades. She will not be around forever, and I've seen what happens when you wait too long. You're a prime example," she huffed, but I simply smiled meekly in reply.

"Perhaps, but –"

"No buts. Either do something or don't do it at all. If you care, care for her. If you don't, admit that you have no feelings for the woman. I could tell she has a lot on her mind. The worst you could do is say nothing," she scoffed, glancing away and glaring at the far wall, and I couldn't stop myself from smirking to myself.

Francis… Lovely Francis… a strange combination of her mother's stern and overbearing composure, and my own strange roughness, whenever I become irritable and angry.

Always serious. Much like a damn reaper…

But I see her point.

"Then… could you help me?" I decided to say, watching as the woman gave me a confused look, only for me to smirk lightly in reply.

Causing her to sigh to herself. "How so?"

"If you could help me plan a little surprise for Clara. We will be leaving soon, but I want to show her that I care. That I truly do. I-I… I want her," I told her, simply, watching as she studied me for a moment, before scoffing underneath her breath.

"You do not own the human –"

"I understand, but the thought of losing her to another troubles me more then my own dark thoughts," I stated, bluntly, and she let a huff leave her breath.

Only for the woman to breath, thinking to herself, until she turned to me and gave me a curious look. "A ball, perhaps?"

"Too flashy. Something low key –"

"Low key? What does that mean?" she scoffed, causing me to smirk.

That girl… her strange 'slang', as she called it, is rubbing off on me. "Sorry. I mean, something quiet. Nothing too extravagant. She likes calm, quiet things… Maybe a special dinner? Or brunch, perhaps?... A little celebration of our time together, so far," I decided to say, though I really wanted to say that it was the woman's birthday, yesterday.

Though, I doubt little Clara will be happy with me if I told another living, breathing entity that it was her birthday. "… I'll talk to Vincent," she stated, suddenly standing to her feet and suddenly leaving the room.

I smirked. So quick, and rash. Always in a hurry…

I sat back, sighing tiredly to myself and rubbing a hand to my face. This is so… tiresome.

Why does Clara make me feel this way?

Sometimes I wish I could stop this emotion…

But then I'd be like any other reaper, closing off their emotions for the sake of the greater good… and… I'm tired of living that way.

I just wish I didn't have to deal with this… mess, all at once.

"Am I… doing the right thing… milady?" I sighed roughly to myself, running a hand through my long locks of hair, fixing the hat upon my head as I pouted to myself. I… don't even know… anymore.

All I know is… that…

I think… I do, love her.

I do.

No matter how much I don't want to admit that.

I just… want to see her happy.

To smile.

To enjoy her life…

Not… get sucked into the problems the grim reapers have. The problems of the universe. She doesn't have to worry about those things.

I'll make sure she won't have to worry… even if it means…

I have to give up this life as a mere mortician to pursue my fate as a grim reaper. A bringer of death…

A pure entity of Death itself.


	30. Phantomhive Arc: The Past and Future 6

**A/N: HEY GUYS!**

**So, unlike many others, I don't have to do that Easter egg hunting stuff. Just got back from church, had a bit of breakfast, and now I'm just chilling in my room watching 'The Greatest Story Ever Told'. Anyways, I decided to wait till today to review this chapter. I'm exhausted from yesterday, but now I'm refreshed! I may add more… we'll see how I'm feeling today.**

**This is the last chapter for this arc. We'll be returning back to the mortuary next chapter! If there's something you guys want to see in this story, don't be afraid to ask! I have some time before anything moves majorly in the plot. I like writing linearly. I've tried jumping around from time frame to time frame, but it just gets too confusing, for me.**

**Anyways, this first part is an Undertaker POV, the latter a Clara POV. And… yeah! I hope you guys are ENJOYING your day! See you later!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Slowly, I made my way down the hallway, my steps light as I pondered everything.

Absolutely everything…

… Geeze… I'm spending too much time with these Phantomhives. With these humans, to care so much…

But I do, don't I?

I care about my little assistant.

Her smile, her laughter… Gods, she has a bright and beautiful laugh. So similar to Claudia… yet, with her, it would take her ages to smile. Impossible to cause a genuine smile to form… but for Clara… it's effortless. Happens almost every single day.

Especially when she's staring off into the distance, deep in thought, and one of her little thoughts causes a content smile to appear on her face…

… Ugh! This is infuriating! And, honestly, I don't understand how she can stand a being like myself.

I hold too much to my chest. I try to hide the truth, so much. Yet… she cares. Why? I don't understand this. Not at all.

Maybe because it's been ages since I've been a human. Ages since I could understand my emotions. True, even humans do not understand their emotions, feelings, and do things rashly… but that's the thing. They act, and as a shinigami, a bringer of Death… acting is harder then a simple thought.

But…

As I finally came upon the room the girl had wandered into, I couldn't help but smile at the scene, putting a slight hand to my mouth to stop myself from making a sobbing noise.

The lovely blue girl, covered in sapphire, laid in the corner, her dress bustling around her, with her head leaning into the wall. She cradled a little blue haired sickly boy, his breathing a bit heavier then her own, but he laid on her lap, contently asleep, with a picture book flopped just beside her cheek. The black family dog, apparently, had wandered into the room, his head slumped upon the girl's leg, his long muzzle close to the boy's hair, and everything felt so…

Serene. Tranquil.

But what was bringing me to tears is that I could see her, Claudia, beside Clara. As if she was right behind the girl. The girl's head was naturally leaning into the ghost's chest, breathing softly as the spirit simply sat there, rubbing the girl's head and running her fingers through the boy's hair… before she noticed me.

And smiled, happily, but with a hint of sadness.

But of course, in Claudia's typical fashion, she put a finger to her lips, giving me a slight smirk, before she vanished, without a trace, suddenly breaking this content scene.

First, it was the dog, whose head lifted from the girl's lap to snarl at me, only for me to smirk, patting the top of the dog's head, and hearing him pant deeply, waiting for me to do something. And then, Clara woke up, suddenly, with a slight jolt and a snort, causing the boy to flinch and wake up from his nap, as well. I watched as the girl yawned loudly, stretching an arm up to the ceiling before looking around, utterly confused, while I scratched the dog behind the ears, absentmindedly, and simply… watched.

Observed.

I blushed slightly as I noticed her head turning to me, giving me a content, gleeful smile, before her attention fell upon the boy on her lap. "… _Little Phantomhive~_… time to wake up. It's dinner time."

"Mmm… do we have to?"

"Yes. I'm sure everyone is waiting for us," she told him, brushing the book off of her lap before she began to pick him up into her arms, cradling the boy to her chest as if it's the most natural thing in the world, and as she struggled to fully stand to her feet, I held out my hand, and she happily took it. "Thanks."

"_Of course~_" I grinned, though my smile weaned just slightly.

I'm… not sure about this. Should we? I mean, the children took so much time to prepare, almost the rest of the afternoon. It wouldn't be right for me to simply pretend that nothing is happening –

"Something wrong?" she asked, walking past me and patting the dog on the head, and the dog ran off, letting out a playful 'woof', and I smirked lightly to myself.

"_**Nothing~~**_" I spoke, with a grin, and she cast me a suspicious look, only to sigh to herself and continue into the hallway, the two, or rather three, of us walking in utter silence.

But… it was a nice silence. Peaceful silence…

I would love to have so many beautiful children with this woman. So many happy little babies running around… though… I'm not even sure if the girl would ever be interested.

She may enjoy children, but children of her own? With me?... What am I thinking?

These humans… rubbing off their thoughts on me… How irritating.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You couldn't stop the low growl that left your breath. First, Undertaker, now Vincent, and even the women? This is getting frustrating!

You don't like secrets. Even if it'll be a fun surprise, you've learned to never let your hopes up. Usually, it's something terrible. "H-hey!" you heard a familiar voice calling from down at your feet, and you smirked, setting the boy in your arms down onto the ground, and you watched with a smirk as the boys grabbed hands. "Did you have fun? Are you okay?"

"W-we had fun. Play chess, read a few books. I couldn't win," the younger of the twins stated, causing Lizzy to gasp.

"You couldn't win at chess?"

"Y-yeah! We both can't! Lady Lara is too good!" the older twin scoffed, but you gave them a simple smirk in reply.

"_I'm sorry~ _I'm just _too~~ good_. Do you honestly think I'd just let you win? Nah, no. I'm not that type of gal."

"W-wow," you heard Lizzy mumble to herself, probably not expecting such a response from you, but you watched as the older twin tugged on the younger twin's arm.

"Hey, ah… what is going on?"

"It's a surprise," the older one said, but the other one scoffed.

"Ciel. Please. At least tell **me** –"

"Okay, okay," he giggled in excitement, your eyebrow rising as the boy whispered into his ear, but before you could overhear you felt hands upon your ears, causing an irritable huff to leave your breath, and the children watched as you flailed and pried Undertaker's hands from your ears, keeping them in your grasps.

"Hey! What are you, a child?! What the… heck? What's so secretive around here?" you scoffed, a low growl leaving your breath as Undertaker grinned deviously at you, only for your grumbling to increase into an outright sneer. "Just!... Tell me, damn it! –"

"_Hush now~_" he chuckled, putting a hand onto your mouth to stop you from screaming at him, only for the Undertaker to grin and wink at the children, who giggled in reply, and you outright sighed, in anger and irritation.

This secrecy is getting on your nerves –

"Come with me, love. _Goodbye kiddies~!_"

"You be good to her," you heard Lizzy responded, with a slight huff, followed by more giggles from the children, and all you could do is groan as Undertaker escorted you away from the children, away from the dining room… So… where is he taking you?

"I didn't realize you don't take _**surprises~**_ very well," he snickered, causing you to scoff roughly in response.

"Let's say it this way, when you spend your life running away, it's hard to trust anything something says. Sorry, but being a bit suspicious has kept me alive, all this time," you huffed, only to feel his arms wrap around you, pausing your steps, and you cast him a confused look as he sighed into the side of your neck. "… Undertaker?"

"I'm… sorry," he suddenly said, your head turning more and causing his head to leave your shoulder, as you gave him a questionable look. "If I just hadn't –"

"Shut it," you bluntly spoke, his mouth closing as he looked at you with a confused expression written all over his face, and all you could do is sigh to yourself, shake your head, and you gave him a weak smile. "Firstly, regardless what you did in the past, for me, that's the past, and it's over and done with. There's no sense on trying to change **that**. Besides, while there are things I hate about myself, there are things I enjoy," you told him, your smile widening just slightly, "… Now, what is the surprise?"

"_I'll show~ you_," he grinned, deviously, causing another pout to appear on your face, and he snickered, poking his long nail at your cheek, and he giggled as you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Ass."

"_I most certainly~ am_. Now, you told me you wanted to go have… ah, dates, is it? Enjoy each other's company for a long period of time? Well, for this week, I came up with a little something," he told you, and while you wanted to ask what or why, instead you sighed, letting the man lead you down the hallway, towards the center of the building, before taking a right and making your way towards the back of the estate.

You blinked, utterly confused as he led you outside, letting you overlook the large ballroom balcony into the garden space, to notice a fairly decent sized table, draped in fancy looking table covers, two white chairs, two long candelabras sitting beside the scene, illuminating the garden, and a nice table centerpiece.

You… honestly didn't know what to say. You were utterly speechless, barely acknowledging the 'have a nice evening' Francis gave you, or the 'good luck' Vincent stated, winking and nudging Undertaker, before leaving the two of you alone…

"Are you alright, love?" you heard Undertaker ask, but his smile turned into concern at your speechless response. "… Clara? Love? Can you answer me?"

"A-ah… I… I don't know what to say," you honestly told him, causing the man to smirk as he took your arm, gently leading you down the steps into the garden space.

"The little children wished to surprise you. I'm sorry for the secrecy –"

"B-but… why?" you had to ask, and he paused, causing you to stop and look up at him confused, as he gently grasp your hands, looking down at your face, and you couldn't stop the light blush that began to flood your cheeks.

Watching his smirk only made your blush intensify, and you turned away, unable to look at him like this, but you closed your eyelids tightly as you felt his fingers cradling your chin, forcing you to look back up at him. "_Laara~_…"

"What?" you responded, slightly opening an eye to glance at him, only to notice his grinning face, and you closed your eyes, scoffing to yourself.

"If you wish for me to be honest with you," he began, the start to his words causing your eyes to open, slowly, as he continued, "is that Francis told me… that if I am not serious about pursuing you, then I should let you go. That she'd find someone more fitting for a kind woman such as yourself to wed… but the thought of losing you angered me," he honestly stated, causing you to blink, a tad confused, but then he gave you a meek smile. "So, we came up with this little dinner, for just the two of us, and do not worry. Little Vincent and Francis made sure _this was __**perfect~**_" he grinned, leading you over to a chair, sliding the chair out, and you carefully sat down, watching as he skipped a bit around the table and sat down in his own chair, grinning from ear to ear.

You couldn't stop the slight grin that appeared on your own face, before your face feel slightly and you leaned your elbows onto the table, trying to get a better look at the man sitting quite a ways from you. "So, are you serious?"

"About what?" he asked in a curious tone, and you smirked, sitting back into your chair to let out a tired sigh.

"About the angry, thing. Was it really anger or was it jealousy over something that hasn't even happened yet? Or, maybe you were just irritated that, perhaps, I could find some guy to spend my days with… and it wouldn't be you," you decided to say, and you watched as his grin fell, slightly, but you continued solemnly, "Well, then I'll tell you.

"Don't worry about that. I told you, if this doesn't work out… I-I don't want to be in another romantic relationship. I'd rather die as an old single hag, then to have my heart broken and manipulated again and again… How many times do I have to tell you that I'm tired?" you told him, but then you turned your attention to the servants that began to bring out your meals which, you're assuming, everyone is eating inside.

But…

The garden is beautiful, at night. The lovely glow of the candles illuminating the flowers, the perfect harmony of light and shadows… The twinkling of the stars, up in the heavens. Untarnished by the yellowish glow of light pollution, or hidden away by blinking satellites…

By God… you miss this…

It wasn't until your appetizers came out, salad and freshly cut fruits, that you turned your attention to the man sitting across from you, realizing he must have been staring at you this entire time. "… What?" you couldn't help but ask, a bit unsure about the answer, and you pouted at the snickering that left his breath. "**What?**"

"You have a beautiful smile," he stated, with a grin, and he giggled at the blush that appeared upon your face, only for your head to turn as you scoffed at him, embarrassed by his cheesy answer. "… Are you telling the truth?" you heard him ask as you opened an eye, giving him a glance as he continued solemnly, "About… if we weren't going to work out, if we aren't meant to be, would you really give up on finding love?"

"Yes," you stated, bluntly, looking down at your food and grabbing a fork, stabbing into your salad with a tired look on your face.

"But why? I don't want to be holding you back or anything –"

"That isn't it," you scoffed, munching down on your lettuce as you continued. "I'm not that lovesick, okay? It isn't you. It's a me problem."

"How so?" he asked in a curious tone, but as you saw his worried glance, you sighed, shaking your head, causing the man to frown. "… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"Y-yeah," you mumbled, causing the man to pout to himself, but as you noticed his frown, you blinked, staring at a red rose that had been set in the center of the table, and you sighed tiredly to yourself. "… Undertaker," you began, getting his attention, "do you believe in the idea of a soulmate? That one person you can truly feel attached to? Love unconditionally? In life and death? Do you think such a thing can exist?"

"Most certainly," he responded, simply, and you smiled to yourself, before you shook your head and let a prominent pout appear on your face.

"Long ago… I want that, too. Someone who cared enough to put up with a weirdo like me. Someone who loves me for who I am, and I can love them equally. We don't… hate each other over time, or use each other in a game. It's just… a mutual understanding between two beings. Maybe… agape, maybe just eros, but… something close. Something I can hold onto until the very end," you began, smiling meekly to yourself before you began to frown. "But… all my life, anyone I can ever say I loved… always dies, in one way or another. Always leaves me. Always turns their back on me…

"I asked Claudia, once," you continued with a frown, "if there was a soulmate out there, for me. Someone that I can truly be happy with. Either living or dead, I did not care… She told me, no. There is not one. They had passed away, and they are not coming back," you spoke bluntly, pouting to yourself, and then your gaze slowly looked up to stare over at Undertaker. You didn't look at him with happiness or even hatred. Only a pained numbness you've felt since your youth. Since the moment you ever thought about 'love' and 'liking someone' for a very, very long time. "Now, I come here, and she told me that, yes, there is someone there. Now.

"… I'm not saying it's you, though I'm sure it is," you scoffed to yourself, plopping your arm onto the table as you put your head into your hand, and you began to munch on your food absentmindedly as you continued to think aloud. "It's just… I gave up on that idea. Just… being fully happy. With my partner, with myself… I-I am only human, after all. There's only so much I can deal with. Put up with. So much… pain I can feel, before it becomes too much. Physical pains are nothing to my mental wounds… So," you closed your eyes, sighing tiredly to yourself, "if this doesn't work out… even if you're not the one, it won't matter. I'd rather die alone, living life my own way, then continuously worry about another for the rest of eternity. I can't… keep hurting myself, for the sake of someone who is ungrateful about it. I cannot think of myself falling in love, if it means it's painful.

"I get it. Love is a complicated matter… which means I need to get rid of it, if it means I'll just end up miserable," you decided to say, sighing once more to yourself, before you slowly sat up in your chair, eating at your food, waiting for a response.

But when you got nothing… you continued to eat, pretending that you weren't hurt by the fact that he didn't even utter a response. That… once again, you're pouring your heart out, and no one cares.

No one cares…

"Don't… give up on the idea of love, child. That's not a good way to live –"

"It's my only way… I'm tired and I want to die and stay dead. How hard is that for anyone to understand?" you pouted, slowly placing your fork on the table as you stared dimly at the wilting red rose, watching as a petal fluttered onto the table, and you sighed to yourself. "My first love… a boy my age, a childhood crush, rejected me after I came back. Shunned me, as if I was nothing to him. My third… she manipulated me to get what she wanted out of me, and threw me aside as if I was trash… My sixth… boy, I enjoyed spending time with her… but I simply enjoyed her company. I just… couldn't love her, like that, and she got angry with me and stormed out on me. My seventh… we simply used each other for sex. Nothing more, and Rosie… God, I-I wish… I mean… she just cast me aside, like the rest.

"Yes, she wants me to be happy, but can I really be happy, now? After everything I know?

"… It hasn't been easy, okay? Broken heart after broken heart… love sucks, and I hate the idea of it. Just… I spent too much energy, and got nothing out of it… I'm sorry if this upsets you, but I'm just being completely honest," you told him, closing your eyes, trying to wash away the anger and sadness that wanted to swallow you whole. The desperation… depression… the suicidal tendencies you naturally feel. Everything. Just… everything…

"Many times, I end up feeling pain because of love. I've been manipulated, physically and mentally attacked, and even suffered because of one love or another… but," he continued somberly, "even if I shouldn't love, I still do. There's always a reason to do so. It can give a creature hope. Joy. So much happiness… even if the happiness is fleeting…

"And," he sighed to himself, your eyes opening to glance over at him, "if this is how you feel… then let me show you what love means, to me."

"… I-if you want to try, you're more then welcome to," you responded, deciding to play this off in a light airy way, instead of feeling sad and depressed… again.

You're tired of feeling that way.

But, what you weren't expecting, was watching as Undertaker stood up, brought his chair to the other end of the table, where you were seated, and grinned as he sat down next to you.

Very, very close to you.

"Ah… hello?"

"If you truly wish to spend your time with me, then I will give you all the love I could muster," he grinned, grasping the hand closest to him, and he snickered at the bright blush that began to tint your face. _"Let me be your soulmate~_"

"… If I… decide to lose my humanity," you decided to say, watching as the man's eyes studied your own as you looked at him with slight uncertainty, "and… become an utter monster. Something almost any sane creature will despise… can you ever think to love me?"

"I'd love you, even if you fell to the underworld and became a deranged devil," he told you, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing your hand against his lips as he kissed you, affectionately, "or flew up to the heavens and became a single minded angel. Even if you were to die and become a mere specter, I'll love you. Always and forever."

"D-do you really mean such a thing? –"

"Of course," he smirked, but he gave you a curious look as you grabbed his hands, sighing as you brought his own hands to your forehead, and you leaned in close as an exhausted sigh left your breath.

"… If you mean that… it doesn't matter to me what you are. What you've done. As long as you'll be honest with me, now. In the present, with me. You can love Claudia. You can still love everyone you've met, but… just… don't leave me or push me away," you breathed.

But before you could think about crying, his hand left your own, tilting your head up, before he leaned forward, gently kissing you upon the lips.

It was a solemn, sad kiss… but a kiss nonetheless. Enough to wash away your anxieties, your fears…

If only for a moment.

"Now then," he chuckled, grinning as you breathed heavily, catching your breath at the rush of emotions that were pressing down upon you and leaving you breathless, "can you enjoy yourself, with me? Yesterday was your birthday, after all."

"What? This was some lame excuse to celebrate my birthday?" you scoffed, but he simply grinned deviously in response. "… Dumbass."

"_Oh am I~?_ It is not proper to celebrate a birthday? –"

"Personally, a death date is a bit more fun then a birthday… Besides, I've never felt truly happy with my birthday in the first place –"

"Then _we'll have to change~ that_. Next year, I shall throw a big celebration! –"

"Nothing big! I'm not into extravagance," you scoffed in disgust, while he grinned happily in response. "What about you?" you decided to ask, causing the man to pause at your question. "Do you have a birthday?"

"Not one I can remember –"

"Let's come up with one, then. I don't want you to go through all the trouble, and I do nothing for you," you scoffed, causing the man to give you a curious look, only to smirk and reach upward, poking the top of your nose. "H-hey!"

"You're sweet," he grinned, and you huffed as you swatted at his hand, only for the man to snicker at your annoyed face. "… September 19th," he told you, but you gave him a curious look. "… My death date."

"Oh… Well, do you want to celebrate that? After all, if you hadn't died, you wouldn't be here with me, right now," you told him, watching as he gave you a curious look, only to smirk to himself and shake his head.

"_No, no~_… But," he continued somberly, smirking at he thought, "How about the 6th of January?"

"Why?"

"The day you arrived at my mortuary. _My precious __**little**__ assistant~_" he grinned deviously, and while you let a slight huff leave your breath, you couldn't stop your own smile.

"… Okay."

"Okay? –"

"Then my birthday is July 13th, and you're January 6th. Sounds easy enough," you grinned at him, but before he could make another comment you both noticed the servants coming back, though you could tell a couple of them were blushing and giggling to themselves over your sudden closeness, but you didn't let them bother you.

If you let the thoughts of others bother you, then you'd never be able to like another person and not feel embarrassed or guilty over it.

But, you couldn't help yourself. You were smiling goofily at the man, the two of you waiting calmly for the servants to set the next batch of food down, and you both let out a light held in laugh. "I swear, if I spend more then a few days here, I'm going to be fat."

"_I wouldn't mind that~_ –"

"No! You better not plump me up like a baked ham! Besides… if anything, I want to work on my muscles. I haven't been working out properly ever since I showed up," you scoffed, suddenly leaning away to look at your biceps, pouting to yourself since, heck, you used to work out every other day, and if you weren't you were working or doing something worth a lot of energy.

These days you laze about. You're becoming a real couch potato.

"_Maybe we'll spar~_" he smirked at you, causing you to look at him, with bright eyes, causing the man to stare at you startled.

"You mean that?!"

"Of course, my dearie –"

"You better! I mean, let's be real here, I'm not as athletic as I used to be. Besides, you are a legend, _aren't you~? _I'd love to see a legend in action," you grinned, and you snickered as you noticed his pale face seemed to be looking a tad pinker.

But that could just be your imagination.

"Say, uh… we should probably eat?"

"Possibly," he replied, and you huffed at his response, but the two of you began to eat the next part of the meal, and you couldn't help but enjoy the savory soup you had been given.

You just wish you could get to the entrée already. You're so hungry for something more then just soups and salads!


	31. London Murders Arc: The Return 1

**A/N: HEY GUYS!**

**I just wanted to say THANK YOU to all my readers! To everyone who has been supporting me, so far. Especially to my new followers, **GaarasLegendaryEyebrows **and **theghostlytimes**. Thank you guys for your support! **

**So, we are returning to the mortuary. I probably won't be having a long 'arc' at the Phantomhive manor, again, like that. Honestly, I was going to add a bit more. Even end the week by saying goodbyes, but the arc took… 13 chapters. So, since I did EVERYTHING I wanted to, at least for now, I decided to move the story along.**

**But, it takes a bit longer for the plot to pick up. Considering I left the manor and didn't really know where to go with the story. So, there is a bit of filler, but the story will pick up in the plot soon enough. I'll tell you, I'm currently writing chapter 45. I am a bit of a novel writer… but I'm thinking… hopefully, I won't have to make a pt. 2 to this story? I've done that to stories before, and then I feel rather bummed when I notice no one is reading that story, but when I've reached past 100 I tend to get discouraged, too. I'm not sure… But the plan in, I'll be staying with this one story, at the moment.**

**But I was thinking, so considering the mood/tone I've put in this story, a bit solemn and serious at times, with hints of laughter rolled in, while pushing this 'plot' about time travel along, if I was to pursue sexual encounters and lemons and such, maybe I'll start a different story. Maybe… an alternate story to this one? Or just a continuation? I may add the 'first time' and stuff like that, in much later chapters, but yeah. This isn't exactly a 'lemon/fucking' story. But, I did want to write about kids. I really do. I'm just not quite sure HOW I'll do that…**

**There's a story someone made a very long time ago. Where Undertaker and their OC had… I think 4-5 children? And he/she went over every sexual encounter, but also things like baby names and raising the kids, and stuff like that. Hopefully, that story is still there. Or maybe, a 'future' story with their kids? But I kind of want to write a story with 'raising' kids. I think that'd be rather fun… Though, the story will be VERY hypothetical. I'll have to ignore particular events in the manga/maybe anime, just to make the assumption that Undertaker survives. I have this sad feeling our dear Undertaker is either going to vanish or die at some point, considering what's happened in the manga with the twins. And with this story, even I'm not sure how I'll end it, but I will try to! I most certainly will try!**

**I'll tell you, I like to try to stay with the stories in which I take my materials. That's why writing fantasy is so difficult. Making up my own cultures and societies to place my characters in… by the time I'm done, I've given up on the story, already, because world building took too much energy out of me. Anyways, I may just have to end this story how I want to. There are some older stories that I've enjoyed to read, with Undertaker of course, which have ended in a way I enjoyed. I know it won't be how the manga ends, but sometimes I just have to bite my tongue and accept what happens. **

**Hmm… well, I think that's about it, honestly. Well, how about this? I'll ask you guys this: should I start a new story, with the assumption this story ends happily [I'm not even sure yet] and Undertaker & Clara both end up having children together, or should I just spend my time solely on writing THIS story? Trust me, I haven't stopped writing yet! I have more then 10 chapters worth to post, still, and a lot more to go! Just… should I? I haven't decided, yet. And there's a lot of time to decide, but for now, that's where my thoughts are.**

**Also, there is a poll on my homepage, right now. A poll about 'lemons or no lemons' for this story. It'd be great if you guys quickly take that poll! Right now, I have 1 for lemon, and 1 for lime. Of course, at the end of the day it's my decision to make, but it would be nice to notice just what my readers want! Considering there's still time to write that sort of stuff… I may add some 'lime' in before I reach more plot driven chapters, but we'll see. **

**OKAY! THAT'S IT! You guys ENJOY your upcoming week, and if you're graduating soon, CONGRATS! Enjoy your upcoming summer breaks!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Time has passed since your trip to the Phantomhive manor, and at the moment you were sitting at the desk in the parlor room, reading over a letter in your hands with a smirk adorning your face.

Rachel, Angelina, and even Francis have been writing you letters since that day, and while it takes a while to get a response, at least it's something that keeps you connected to the outside world. Before, you had tv, your laptop, cellphone… just about anything would connect you, but now… you have to rely on letters to keep updated on people, and the newspaper to hear the daily news around the city and country, and listening to the gossip on the streets, as well.

It's a lot of work, but it's something to occupy your time.

Sure, there is always the dead to take care of. Funeral arrangements, attempts at restoration, as well as looking for lumber at the pier or in a large trash heap or simply buying a specific coffin or casket somewhere else. It's… work, but just that. Work.

And besides, after a few hours, everything quiets down and there's time to sit and do something.

Being lazy like this, sure it bothered you at first, but you've learned to accept that this is how life is going to be, for now. Just… slow. So slow.

And you suppose you won't complain about that.

This is… different then your previous life of running around, praying that you wouldn't drop dead, and the hope that you'd make it into the next day. Filling out paperwork for the souls of the dead, crying about everyone you cared about that had died… yeah… This life is ten times different to that mess.

Slowly, you began to open a drawer in the desk, taking one piece of paper from a stack of clean printed parchment paper, a bottle of black ink, and a quill. It took you a while to get used to writing with these things, but you have to admit, it is a bit of fun. Though, you had to relearn how to write in cursive. You wasted a lot of paper in your sketchbook trying to relearn that. Sure, you could just write in a pencil, but it's not as fancy and as fun as doing this.

And besides, you have time to think about every letter, every stroke of your quill as it touched the ink, the paper, and then the ink again, and how your message looks.

You're sure there's something called an ink pen that exists, but this is what Undertaker had lying around, and for the documents you have to fill out for the guests, that's when you use an ink pen… or a pencil. He has a ton of pencils.

But you had time to kill and responding to another letter Rachel has given you was certainly something to do. She sends a lot of letters, you've noticed, and you wonder if that's because she's cooped up in the manor, all the time. You've only seen Vincent roaming about, and you rarely hear about Rachel's presence in the city. Heck, you don't think you have.

Yet, as you began to finish your letter, signing 'Lady Clara Graves' at the bottom, and quickly adding your signature icon at the bottom, you felt arms wrap around your shoulders, causing your movements to stop. "_Whatch'a doing~?_" you heard Undertaker ask, letting out a light giggle while you sighed roughly in response.

"Trying to finish a letter to Rachel. Can you let me go, for a moment?" you told him, but you blushed as you felt the man peck your cheek with his lips, letting your arms go and standing behind you, looming over your head to look at your letter, as you finished your little drawing at the bottom, before you set the quill back into the ink pot, grabbing an envelope so you could write her address, and your own, on the front of the envelope.

"A skull?" you heard Undertaker ask, quickly followed by a giggle, and you simply sighed, smiling lightly to yourself, as you finished writing on the envelope before you put the quill onto a rag covered in splotches of ink, used for this sort of thing as you closed the ink pot.

"Yep. What do you think? I mean, I can't use the Phantomhive seal, but I like skulls so… why not?" you smirked, turning to look up at him, only to freeze as you felt his hands wrap around your face, and his lips gently kissing your own.

You looked at him wide eyed while he let you go with a grin, and at his mischievous grin you scoffed in response. "W-what?! Don't fool around, Undertaker!"

"You're so adorable! I cannot help myself –"

"Well, restrain yourself! Geeze!" you scoffed, throwing up your arms in annoyance, only to sigh as you felt his arms wrap around your shoulders again, and his chin plopped down onto the top of your head. He's been like this since the two of you returned to the mortuary. All… lovey dovey. At first, it flustered you and made you nervous. Now, you're just getting annoyed.

Maybe annoyed isn't the right word, but that's certainly how you're feeling, right now.

"… The skull is cute, I suppose," he decided to say, and you glanced at him, giving him a curious look, as he continued with a grin, "but _a human~ skull_? Wouldn't it be a lot more fun to use a different sort of skull?"

"Meh. I mean, it's hard to draw with ink anyways. I thought about a bird skull, but it always looked… off. Besides, look at what I found the other day!" you exclaimed, your excitement and flailing throwing Undertaker off of you, but only his head and his grasp around your shoulders remained as you reached into the desk, pulling out another drawer, before taking out a metal stamper, for wax. "Nina pointed this out when we were walking around London. Found this in one of those mourning shops," you giggled, handing it over to Undertaker so he could take a look.

Only for a snicker to leave his breath.

"Seriously? A human made such a thing?" he responded, with a sigh, bringing the bottom of the stamper closer to his face so he could see the image. "A human skull imprint?"

"Yep! So, I'll use it as my signature logo thingie. What do you think? _I am a Graves~_, after all," you grinned deviously, only to receive a gentle pat on the top of your head. "What? Not impressed?"

"You certainly are a strange human," he decided to say as he handed back your stamper, and you scoffed in irritation.

"_Woooww~_. Talk about insulting me –"

"Do not take my words as insulting, dear Lara," he told you, grinning as he slumped back down, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and plopping his head back on top of yours. "It's a compliment."

"Yeah. **Right**," you scoffed in disgust, but you set the stamper back onto the table, slowly sinking back into your chair as you let the man's grip around you slump further onto your body. You closed your eyes.

This… is nice. It's not every day you get to sit, like this. Sometimes your days are chaotic. Other times, too quiet, but this… is nice…

But of course, before you could fall asleep in this position, you heard the front door open, and in an instant Undertaker took his arms off of you, grinning to the new 'living guests' while you calmly placed your letter and envelope to Rachel into a drawer, careful to not let the ink smear, before you put the stamper back in its proper spot as you stood up and began to make your way to the guests, with a smile adoring your face.

You could tell the widowing wife and her son were staring at the two of you questionably, probably more at Undertaker then yourself, but you completely ignored their leering stares, judgmental glances. After all…

Those who need to know that you're with the Undertaker, already do. If people haven't caught on, then that's their problem. So be it.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

The two of you sat contently in the living room. Undertaker, with a book in his hands, with his boots propped up onto the coffee table as he leaned his arms against the armrest and upon your own leg, and you laid your body across the couch, with your sketchbook and pencil in hand, occasionally using an eraser to clean up some of your sketches.

On a quiet afternoon such as this, when the skies are overcast with possibilities of heavy rain, this is where you've both found yourselves, waiting for dinner to finish cooking. Today, it was another simmering stew, and while the smell was overwhelmingly delicious, you did have a quick little snack before settling down in your current spot.

Your eyes occasionally glanced over at the Undertaker, watching him read, his book up to his face while you smirked to yourself. "Do you need reading glasses?"

"No," he scoffed, but you shook your head at him, causing his head to turn to you while you smirk deviously at his sudden whininess.

"I mean, we can buy you some, in your prescription. My reaper buddies still owe me a few favors. I can certainly own up on one of them, for you," you decided to say, but he shook his head before giving you a light smile.

"Thank you, love, but I'd rather spend my days blind as a bat then accept defeat," he stated, and you simply gave him a curious look, before you returned to your sketchbook.

With that out of the way, the two of you grew quiet, concentrating on your tasks, as you began to sketch the man. The thin lines of his chiseled face… the perfect scars, his hair, parted just slightly, so you could just see past his hairs to his beautiful shinigami eyes. The high cut of his collar, covering his neck scar, and… of course, his top hat. You cannot forget that top hat.

But… you flipped the page, trying again to get the man just right, starting from his head and working your way down to his robes, only for the two of you to hear a rough knocking downstairs. You sighed, taking your legs off of Undertaker's lap, while he smoothly stood to his feet, placing a black, gray, and pink bookmark into his book before closing it, and you watched as he swiftly made his way out of the room and down the stairs, causing you to pause for a moment… before you placed your own belongings on the wooden coffee table and decided to follow him.

You crept, hoping to not make a sound, and hearing the raspy, giggling voice of the Undertaker caused you to smirk, slightly, before you stopped in the hallway and peeked into the parlor room, to see what was going on. "We would be grateful if you looked over these –"

"_Geh ehehehe~! And, what will I get if I do~?_" Undertaker grinned, deviously, and the man in front of him, soaked to the bone, sighed to himself.

"Undertaker, sir, please. I would rather do this work for the Yard myself, but even I'm unsure of how these people died. I know the Earl Phantomhive speaks highly of you… so, could you?"

"_Give me some first rate prime laughter~, my boy_," you heard the Undertaker respond, snickering darkly while you heard the man sighing to himself, and you calmly made your way out of the hallway and into the parlor room, taking in the sight with a curious eye.

You noticed a man who seemed to be in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties, wearing a very similar getup to the Undertaker. Minus the large black top hat and overly baggy clothes, but his own attire was black, with a gray sash across his chest to indicate he was also a mortician, of sorts. He had messy looking dark brunette hair, with dark forest green eyes and freckles all over his sunburnt face. The moment he noticed you were standing there, he began to blush, madly, his face ten times redder then it is, at least from what you could tell in the darkness of the parlor room, but your awkward stare-off was interrupted by another cackle from the Undertaker. "_**Ah yes~**_. You have not met my new assistant, have you boy?"

"A-ah… N-no. I just… have heard you have a new assistant," he stated, simply, but you narrowed your eyes in irritation as you felt the man's eyes glancing you over, top to bottom, but before you could feel fully creeped out by the situation, you felt a comforting hand upon your shoulder as Undertaker tugged you to his side. "Clara, this is one of the many undertakers that happen to be in London. Richard Grieg, who dwells on the other side of the city. The west side. Grieg, this is my lovely new assistant, Clara Graves."

"Graves?" he responded in a slightly confused tone, but you ignored him as you continued with the pleasantries.

"Hello, Mr. Grieg. Now, those bodies. What's wrong with them? –"

"_Nuh uuuh~_. They are our _**new guests~**_" Undertaker smirked, but you rolled your eyes, your eyes turning back to glare over at the man as he pouted, suddenly smacking his face slightly with his hand, before he continued with a slight huff.

"Yes. I apologize. How about we, at the very least, come to a quick agreement? The corpses are sitting out in wooden caskets getting rained upon," he stated, and you nudged Undertaker roughly in the shoulder.

"Come on, now. Let's get on with it –"

"_Alright, alright~~_ –"

"And because I helped you out, you owe us two free caskets from your mortuary –"

"W-what?! –"

"Say yes or get out," you stated bluntly, scoffing as you continued. "We were enjoying our afternoon, and showing up past nightfall is improper. So?..."

"… Fine. I'll agree to your terms, now, Undertaker some help?" the man asked, and you huffed in annoyance at the obvious 'rejection', but Undertaker snickered, noticing your distress and shook your shoulders, slightly.

"Don't worry about it, love. Could you make sure we don't burn our dinner?" he asked you, and you simply nodded your head.

"Fine, but I'm helping the moment the stew is done," you stated, but you couldn't stop your slight smile as he kissed your cheek, snickering as he left you and went out into the rain.

And you could tell that mortician was judging you… the both of you…

You just groaned underneath your breath, deciding that you should probably change out of these clothes into something a bit more manageable. Who knows how long this night will be, and you refuse to let Undertaker do all the work, again. Plus, you're curious.

Just… what happened that the humans need a reaper's eyes to see it?

How interesting…


	32. London Murders Arc: The Return 2

**A/N: HEY GUYS!**

**The crew is back in London! But, **_**there's something strange going on~**_**. Honestly, this particular part, I had NO idea what to do. But, then again, this is a little kick starter to what Clara will be deciding, later in the story. Yeah. We're at chapter 32 already, but there's a lot more to the plot! I kind of took a while to introduce the story… and have fun in the Phantomhive manor. But hey. That's what happens when you write a lot, but then don't give yourself particular points in your story to finish, in a certain number of chapters. After this point, I kind of keep track of just how far my story is going. This particular part/arc is kind of repetitive, in terms of inner dialogue, but I try! I truly do! **

**But I'm finally pushing the plot along. It starts at about chapter 40/42ish. It took me a while to decide what I wanted to do, but I have some ideas, now. So I'm not continuing this story too blindly. However, I did write these upcoming chapters, so I plan on posting them! **

**I thought about writing more then two scenes in a chapter, but I don't like posting more then ten pages at a time. I've noticed that chapters that have more then ten pages, on word, tend to be overwhelming to read. For me, at least. But, that just means there are more chapters. So, whatever.**

**Maybe I'll post more chapters today… We'll see. I am enjoying this little break in my week! And, I'm a little more adamant to write the chapters I'm working on, so that's good! I am ENJOYING your support, guys! And you guys ENJOY the REST OF YOUR WEEK! Study hard. Get good grades. All that jazz.**

**Okay! SEE YOU LATER!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

These guests… were strange.

Each human was killed in the same sort of way, at different periods of time. However, it looked like each one of them self-combusted into flames, from the inside out.

Fire is the cause, but why?

I understand demonic fire and holy fire, but this is… different. Something I haven't seen before… at least, in my memories I do not recall such a fire. The burns burnt most of the remains, and parts of flesh had been left behind at the scene of the crimes. All within the span of… three days? That is what the boy said, three days.

All happening at night.

It's troublesome because some of these humans were nobles. Part of the aristocracy, so of course these humans now cared about who had done it…

I'm just not sure.

Their cinematic records had disappeared, burnt into ashes like the rest of the bodies, so I couldn't find anything. Nothing to give me any sort of clue as to who or why this had happened. A supernatural force, I reckon, but in the morning I'm going to have to see the sites where these bodies had been discovered.

It's a bit too troublesome for me to let go. Especially now that I have my little dearie by my side, and more Phantomhives running about? I'm sure she'll end up investigating this particular anomaly –

"How's it going?" I heard a familiar voice, her sweet youthful tone causing me to glance up from my work, before I gave her a meek smile.

"Difficult."

"Wow, the mighty Undertaker cannot figure out the perp?" she smirked mischievously, and I couldn't help but let a light chuckle leave my breath at her strangely uplifting mood. "I brought tea. You should take a break."

"I shouldn't. At least, until I come up with a good response to give the earl –"

"**Take** a break. It wasn't a question, but an order," she scoffed in such a familiar tone that I couldn't help but smirk to myself. While most would find her snappy words irritating, I couldn't help but be amused by her bossiness. "Besides, it's been three hours, already. The dinner is already cold."

"You can go to sleep, my love –"

"Nope. Not until you do, or at least until our work is done," she huffed, placing the tray of tea upon a cleared table, and I sighed tiredly to myself.

I could argue, but even I understand it's best to have a little break to recharge one's self… even if it's only for a moment. "Fine," I stated as I walked over to her, and I smirked at the slightly confused look she gave me, probably curious to why I caved in so quickly to her demands, until her eyes fell upon the new guests.

"… Fire, huh? Did it happen at the same time or something?"

"No. Between the span of three days. Seven corpses within the span of three days. We should figure out the exact time periods of their deaths –"

"Are you saying you cannot see their soul memories?" she asked in such a way that startled me, but just slightly.

After all, I've come to understand that there are things this girl knows, yet does not outright say. Still, the blunt way she asked and the way she stated her question made me think that she's seen such an anomaly before… via demon intervention, probably. "They were burnt away."

"Burned?" she asked, and I slowly nodded my head as I began to clean my hands in a basin full of water, the water becoming tinted and gritty before I grabbed a rag, wiping my hands, and placing the rag next to the basin.

"Yes. There are a few ways a record can disappear from a body," I began, taking the hot tea pot and pouring the tea into a large beaker, sighing to myself as I leaned back into the table and began to sip at the warm drink. "They can be ripped out by a demon, meaning that the soul wasn't properly reaped by a shinigami blade as the human dropped dead, or cleared away by an angelic presence. Any possible burns on a record are usually an interference of an angel… or possibly a fallen devil that still uses fire, in some sort of way. But, usually there is something remaining. In these guests… no records are there.

"Burnt away entirely," I finished, sipping once more on my drink, and I watched with a curious eye as the child began to make her way over to the corpses, looking at the seven humans with an intrigued gaze as I smirked lightly to myself.

I've learned not to interfere when the girl grows quiet and begins to think. It's more amusing to watch her soft breathing, as she takes in the sights around her, and the way her eyes move about in a wide critical stare, analyzing every little detail. I smirked as she began to reach into the decaying flesh of the dead, looking over parts of organs, charred bones, and even joints and ligaments. As if… she knew exactly what she was looking for…

Does she know?

"… Have you seen such a thing as this before, my dear?" I decided to ask, placing my half drunken tea back onto the tray, noticing her eyebrows scrunched together, her eyes narrowed and in deep concentration, and I couldn't help but pout.

Not because the child isn't answering my question, but for the fact that I cannot be more helpful.

"Hmm…" she began, catching my attention as she picked up a particular organ, a heart, noticing the burns, but then she put her finger into the organ, as if she was feeling for… something. "… Seven bodies, huh? Only seven?"

"Do you think there's more?"

"Could be. This could be a cult," she began, my eyes blinking in slight confusion as she continued with a tired sigh, placing the heart back into the body before grabbing a rag and wiping some of the excess blood and gunk off of her fingers. "I've seen a lot of weird things in my day, but this?... A combination of a few things. Mainly magic; sorcery. More specifically, necromancy," she stated, and I couldn't help but look at her a bit wide eyed.

Once again, the way she casually said such a word made me wonder what this girl truly knows. What she's done and seen in the future. "Why do you think such a thing? –"

"Simple. Or rather, I've seen this cult before. They called themselves the New Jerusalem. They came out of America, but the cult began to expand into Europe and Africa, before everything went to total shit. What I figured out is that the cult leader was being manipulated by a corrupted angel. One that had fallen out of heaven's graces, but it thought it was doing the will of its creator –"

"Of course," I smirked, trying to lighten up the mood a bit, and she cast me her own smirk before casually getting back to her little explanation.

"Yes… well, I killed that angel. It shouldn't be around, but…" she frowned, and I couldn't help but feel concerned.

As if… there was a strange foreboding in the air… That this little happy life will be taking a turn for the worst.

"… It had followers. That angelic ass. Some survived, and could have been thrown back into the past with the rest of us… If they did… I-I don't even want to think about what they've been doing for the past few months," she shuddered in disgust, causing me to frown. "The mortals may think this is just some human sacrifices, but what they're trying to do is revive the dead. Use necromancy. There's a few spells that use the old memories left in a body to revive the dead and bring them back to the living… but no one can bring back the dead, except the Son of God," she scoffed. "Any other creature that tries screws up, badly."

"So," I began, getting the girl's attention as I continued somberly, "what are we to do?"

"There should be thirteen. After thirteen, the group will stop trying… whatever it is they're experimenting," she explained to me, reaching into another body and pulling out a heart. A heart, much like the other one, has burnt marks… but also strange holes that practically mirror the heart holes in the other bodies. "It looks to me that they're keeping the humans alive, taking out their hearts out of their beating chests, and then trying to do… something. But, it always ends up with the soul and body burning up into flames. They need to have very strong magic to be doing this."

"… Magic. You believe that's what it is? You cannot be more specific?" I had to ask, knowing that the term of 'magic', by a human, is only used in a broad sense. There are many ways the word of 'magic' can be used. Hell, what I do, what I am, is a form of magic in itself. The dead coming back to life. The children of Death. I wouldn't exist the way I do, if some sort of 'magic' wasn't involved in such a process.

A very curious process, of course.

"I can," she suddenly stated, and I couldn't help but cast her a stern glance, "… but I shouldn't tell you –"

"You should. I can be helpful," I told her, and she simply sighed tiredly in response.

"… My family's magic," she suddenly said, and I couldn't help but cast her an utterly confused look.

"What? –"

"Or curse. Whatever. More specifically, my ring," she continued, holding up her right hand and pointing to her ring finger. Noticing my utterly confused staring, she sighed, tiredly, and I gave her a meek smile, hoping it was enough to cause the girl to continue her explanation. "The family ring. The Phantomhive ring. I've noticed, on Vincent's hand, that his family ring doesn't hold the same… strange energy as mine does. Well, scratch that. It's still a cursed ring, sure, but my Phantomhive ring had some demonic energy attached to it. Whoever wields it, between Vincent's time and mine, ended up working with a demon," she stated, and I couldn't help but frown at her words.

To think, a Phantomhive child will go so far as to align themselves with a demon… and get eaten. To sell their eternal soul to a pathetic creature… How… pitiful, and terrible –

"But this demon wasn't an ordinary demon. In fact, it's a devil. A fallen angel. It didn't have an alignment to any of the current seven lords in hell. Perhaps it was aligned with someone, probably their, so called, king, but wasn't born from. Not in service to. It worked independently. For its own gains.

"And that devil will continue to harass my family, even when I'm born," she stated, and I watched with concern as her hand began to reach for the right side of her face. For her… eye.

She told me that she was clawed at, by a demon, but never **what** demon. Or explain **why** the pain still lingers, even though I see nothing. No scars, no demonic spark or mark in her eye. Just… it's there, for some reason.

"That's why the ring is given to the head of the family, and only the head. Why we didn't just hand the family ring off to just anyone. It wasn't just because my family tends to run into trouble all the time, but because the ring just… shows up, and that devil along with it. But… what has concerned me," she continued, and I couldn't help but stare at her with a weary glance as she continued with a tired sigh, "is that… I haven't seen that ring pop up, at all. The children didn't have it, the reapers didn't take it off of my body… That ring usually reveals itself, but even Claudia didn't just hand the ring to me. I've thought perhaps there can only be one ring at a time, one Phantomhive… but if my ring is being used by the cult… i-it makes some sense, Undertaker," she told me, her voice a bit shaky as she spoke my name.

But…

All I could think about is some disgusting, foul scented devil clawing at my Clara's soul. At any child's soul… Wow…

The Phantomhives truly are an unlucky bunch.

Makes me wonder how or why they've lasted for as long as they did, if it wasn't for some sort of reason.

"How could they be using your ring, then?" I decided to ask, but she simply sighed in response, a thoughtful look overcoming her features, before she turned to me and looked a tad teary eyed.

I would hug her, but we both have the gunk of the dead on our hands. It's best that I don't dirty her pretty little dress.

"My powers. My abilities… they're fire based. It's my style. I-it's hard to explain, but I'm sure that's why these bodies are burnt to a crisp," she scoffed, gesturing to the bodies still lying upon metal tables, before continuing, "and… my mum, I think I told you, but she tried to use necromancy, many times before… Why I think this is happening," she decided to continue, walking over to the basin of already dirty water to wash her own hands, and then dry her hands with a decently clean rag, "I think… they want to start up the apocalypse, now. Now that they know it can happen."

"They? –"

"Demons. Devils. Maybe even the angels. Whoever is responsible for this. A war will break out, and what starts it is the dead rising out of their graves. Armageddon. The rapture, some call it… It… isn't as glamorous as you may think it is. I don't think you know what zombies are, but more like… moving decaying dolls that don't have a mind of their own, except to move, to bite, and to move until they are unable to move anymore. It's not dead mortals coming back to life and get to live another life. It's just… terrible," she sighed, shaking her head, before she gave me a meek smirk. "Well… that's my theory, anyways."

"A very good one. Better than anything I can come up with," I decided to smirk back in response, though her words of foreboding worried me.

Not the end of days. More…

The fact… that she knows something I do not. That she had to see terrible things, and her explanations are truly terrible. It's not as if I can understand what she's attempting to explain, without seeing such happenings for myself. And besides…

While such topics are quite fascinating to look into, the tired and weary look on the young girl's face made me feel… uneasy.

I… don't want her to leave me, for any reason.

She better not disappear.

She better not.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Eight… ten… and now eleven.

Eleven bodies, burnt and killed in a similar manner, and you couldn't stop yourself from sighing, deeply. Personally, you didn't want to have to wait, like this. Wait for thirteen corpses, for the earl to show up since he investigates this stuff, and then wait for the results. Honestly… you don't even want to wait.

You want to leave. You want to go out there and stop this, yourself.

But… you're trying to lay low. And you don't have your powers, anymore. Sure, you still have your skills. Your training. Techniques, but not your reaper skills. You cannot take on a hoard of hell raisers… you cannot take on the world's problems, anymore…

So… why do you want to, so badly?

You sighed, tiredly, as you sat down onto a stool, staring at the three bodies you were currently looking over. Logging their information into slips of paper to be filed away, and soon forgotten about. If this was the future, you'd be taking very intricate pictures, making sure to catch every detail.

The burnt bodies. The burnt hearts. The holes, the strange parts you've come to notice.

But, on these last three bodies, the killers have become sloppy. You could tell…

They are demonic, in nature, but more troubling…

There's an angel there, too. An angelic presence. You just cannot tell if it's a fallen angel, turned devil… or an actual angel, at work.

If it's an angel… this'll be ten times difficult, but if not…

You… don't… want Vincent to get involved. Besides, if they're using your ring, then maybe you should be the one to get involved. To draw out a Phantomhive… they may just end up killing the man, and while you fear that could cause your own presence to disappear, and you in turn die, you're more scared of losing such a good man. Maybe an irritating man, but Vincent has given you no reason to hate him. And, he preforms his duties as Watchdog almost perfectly. Seamlessly… you would hate to see his wife cry over his death, his children mourn. For the Phantomhvie name to be rolled around in the dirt, as it often is.

You rubbed at your face, using your arm rather then your dirty hands, though you're sure you got some sort of dirty goop on your cheek as you tried to get a particular itch. This is… stressing you out. Terribly. You know it, but you aren't going to stop. When you could sense your reaper powers, your reaper self… loss of sleep or even basic needs didn't bother you. Now, it is.

But before you could fall backward, almost slipping off of the stool to hit your back upon a table, you felt arms wrapping around you, and a face nudging the side of your cheek. "_**Clara~**_… You need sleep."

"N-no. No, I need to work –"

"The guests won't be going anywhere. Besides, you're not looking well," you heard Undertaker say, but you sighed deeply in response. When you didn't even argue back, make some sassy snappy comment, he sighed as well, and you flinched just slightly as he kissed your cheek, and then set a clean bowl of water upon the table behind you. "Wash your hands. We can work on this in the morning –"

"I can't sleep," you stated, bluntly, causing the man to frown, but you followed his orders as you stood up, cleaning your hands as you continued with a tired, but blank look on your face.

As if your soul wasn't exactly in your body, anymore, but had drift away. Fallen asleep… was too weary to care, anymore. "… I… I don't want Vincent to handle this case," you decided to say, not exactly saying what you were feeling, but it was close enough.

"Clara, I'm sure the boy –"

"No. N-no you don't get it. See it. I mean, firstly there's an angel mixed in on this," you began, pointing to the bodies, the last one that had arrived specifically, before you grabbed a rag, wiped your hands, and then ran your hands over your apron, sighing tiredly to yourself as you did. "More importantly… it shouldn't be his problem."

"I hate this too, but Vincent is the Queen's Watchdog, regardless if I believe he should be helping the damn royals or not –"

"They are trying to lure out the Phantomhives," you stated, rather bluntly, but slowly you walked over to him, suddenly wrapping your arms around his upper waist and letting yourself slump into his chest. You could feel his body tense up, but you didn't care. You're too emotionally exhausted to care, right now. And if he's going to make you stop… then you're going to get some comfort, damn it. "If Vincent shows up, I'm sure they're going to try to kill him. Or use him, in some way, but if he dies… aigh! I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let that idiot die," you scoffed, "because this is honestly my problem to handle, not his.

"But… I'm afraid," you continued, gripping his robes tightly as you leaned in closer, letting out a shaky breath as you whimpered underneath your breath at the thought. "I'm just… a human. My reaper powers… I-I could take them out quickly, but now… I-I could end up dead. Even if Vincent dies, they'll still go after me if I remain."

"Love," you heard Undertaker respond, his arms tightly wrapping around your body, pulling your shoulders into his chest, as he sighed deeply, "… I won't let any of those filthy creatures lay a hand upon you. You have **my word**."

"Okay, fine," you scoffed, your blunt and irritated response causing the man to let out a slight snicker of his own, and the sudden movement of his chest causing a meek smile to appear on your face, and a blush to brighten your face. You paused, collecting your thoughts as you breathed, deeply, before continuing. "I… I know I shouldn't be saying this, but… I miss being a reaper," you had to say, sniffling as you held back the tears that wanted to slip down your face. "I felt so… me. I-I don't know. I know I should be happy with what I have, but… I feel like something is locked away, again. That I'm pushing a part of myself away… and it hurts.

"It hurts… so much that I cannot be more helpful. I just want to… get rid of those bastards and be done with it," you grumbled, only to feel a finger upon your chin, tilting your head upward so you were staring up at the rather tall man, with a frown adorning your face.

"Clara, you don't need powers to be helpful… but I would rather keep you away from danger. Especially of this particular variety –"

"Don't," you scoffed in disgust, your grip around the man slowly slipping, and you took a step away, only to be brought back to the man's chest, and you growled lowly, glaring up at him, while he smirked simply in response. "… You know, I was just starting to like you, but if you honestly think that women need to be protected and all that crap, I'm going to have to stop this relationship here. I'm not a doll that needs to be properly cared for. I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can. In fact, I believe you can… in most situations," he began, but as he noticed your irritated glare he continued, "but… you are human. And, why can't I be worried?"

"I would be worried too if you put yourself in a terrible situation," you decided to say, but then you shook your head, "but you don't get it. You males think that you can protect females. Seriously, what's up with that? –"

"Males like to feel dominant. Own or possess something. Not all, mind you, but I'm believing that's where your fears for the opposite sex stem from," he smirked, causing you to outright huff at him, turning and glaring at nothing in particular before you could feel his nose brushing against the side of your forehead, causing you to freeze midbreath. "I'm sorry. However, I do not want you to go after such monsters."

"B-but –"

"And yes, I worry about the boy too… Just… you must stay calm, my dear," he sighed, and you couldn't stop yourself as you heard his tired breath, your hands moving on their own as you reached for his face, causing his eyelids to open and his reaper eyes to gaze upon you, glowing in its pure glory.

You smiled, meekly, your finger brushing away some stray hairs from his face, before you sighed to yourself, trying to hold back the need to cry. "If I do nothing, I'm sure this'll end up blowing out of proportion… My biggest fear is that these demons are going to try to bring about the apocalypse, early. H-how can I just sit by and let it happen?" you sniffled, a hand letting go of his face while you put your hand to your mouth, quickly wiping at a tear to stop yourself from outright sobbing.

Geeze… you hate being this weak. This whiny… but you cannot help it.

You're just… so… terrified. Fearful of an outcome worse then the one you had to endure.

You just… don't want anything bad to happen, to anyone you care about.

"You told me there will be thirteen bodies," he decided to say, your eyes slowing staring up at him as he continued, his tone more thoughtful then aggravated. "So… we shall wait for the last two to show up, and then we can set a plan in motion."

"W-what? Seriously? –"

"I don't want to," he scoffed, but then he placed a quick kiss upon your forehead, and you couldn't help but stare at his chest, wide eyed, before he continued, "but, even I do not want the poor boy to get hurt. And, if you're so sure you can get rid of them…"

"I-I… I don't even know how deep this will go," you admitted, but he sighed in response.

"Either way, I can tell you will stop at nothing to put an end to this murder spree. So, let me help you," he stated, and you couldn't help but stare at him.

Honestly surprised. "W-what? Why? Shouldn't you try to lock me away or something in order to protect me, like an idiot? –"

"I know from experience you Phantomhives will do what you think is right," he smirked, snickering at your utterly confused face as he began to nuzzle his nose against the top of your head, and you couldn't stop yourself from squirming, mainly out of nervousness and uncertainty, "and, I would rather be involved and be of service, to you, then let you drift away from me."

"… S-so… wow. Are you sure?" you asked, your movement to look up at him causing the man's face to leave your head, but he smiled lightly in reply.

"I am sure. Now, why don't we have a nice cup of tea, _hmm~?_ We still have a long day to get through," he told you, but before he could let you go, you grabbed his cheek, his eyes looking at you curiously, until you began to lean upward.

You gently kissed the man on the lips, a kiss so slow, yet… so nice, as if you had released some built up energy you weren't willing to let go of, until now. You sighed, softly, regretting that you pulled away, but you gave him a meek smile before you continued, "S-sure. Just… don't do something crazy, either."

"_I'll think~ about it_," he smirked, but then he let out a confused huff as you poked the man on the nose, grinning deviously at the unsure look he began to give you.

"**Talk** to me, before you do something crazy. 'Kay?"

"… Yes," he agreed, only to let out a slight chuckle as you suddenly leaned upward, kissing him once again, but this time you weren't so hesitant about it. "_My, my~_. Have I _placed you under my spell~?_"

"No. You're just so sweet," you told him, smirking, before you let him go and began to make your way up the stairs, pausing when he didn't move. "… Are you coming?"

"Right behind you, my lady love," he smirked, but you couldn't stop yourself from blushing, slightly.

Geeze, what's with this guy?!

But… wow. You really are tired, you realized as you gripped the railing on the stairs to stop yourself from falling backward, only to feel the man's arms around your shoulders, keeping you from tumbling backward. "I got you, love. I won't let you fall."

"I honestly hope so," you mumbled underneath your breath, feeling a tad teary eyed, but you pushed your emotions aside and, instead, thought about making your way up the stairs, with Undertaker guiding you.

Are you…

Really this weak?

Gah!... This sucks!

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**I will say this, before we move on to the next chapter. I don't think it's wrong that Clara cries. In fact, I would encourage the need to cry, when you need to. Trust me. Bottling up your emotions until they explode is a terrible thing to do.**

**Thing is, Clara has learned to hold in her emotions, since she was young. But, I'll say this in a much later chapter [if I remember] I decided to base her after a particular child, from a particular anime I've been watching lately. Just because the interactions with those particular children is so cute! And yes! I'm having a bit of a baby fever over here. Whatever. **

**But, because of that particular show, I decided to add a bit more to her background, but now I have her background pretty much solidified. I know what happened and where she's going. So, no worries! And I'll state what show that is, if I remember to say it… around chapter 40ish? More likely, around the 46****th**** or 47****th**** chapter. But, there we go! That's all I wanted to say.**

**So, crying is okay. Showing emotions is okay. Just, Clara doesn't think that way… and maybe she'll be able to work out those problems she has? Later?**


	33. London Murders Arc: The Truth 1

Your head barely glanced as you heard the front door bell ring, but you ignored it as your eyes drifted back to your work. Your womanly guest was in her thirties, a young woman who died during child birth. At first, the idea of dying at birth used to unnerve you. After all, you always thought that, hey, if you just find the right guy, you can have kids and be happy, but… in this day and age, health care certainly isn't at its best.

But, those thoughts were replaced with many others, and slowly you've become accustomed to seeing many young women who died giving birth, infants that died at a young age, and even children.

Yet, right now, you were preparing this woman for her last big send off. Her funeral. Now that her fluids have been drained out and were replaced with formaldehyde and other chemicals, her chest sown back together, and parts of her body stuffed so she wouldn't look so… flat, you can finally get to work on making her pretty. The dress had already been picked out by her young husband, which means you had to put makeup and paints on her face and body, or at the very least the parts that'll be showing.

White.

Of course, the dress is white.

Dresses always seem to be white, and suits always seem to just be in black, with a white collared shirt. It's not a lot to work with, but considering you heard her favorite color was red… you could work with that.

So, you got to work putting a 'foundation', followed by painting her eyelids in dark to light shades of red, adding blush, and bright red lipstick upon her face. Her face was like your own personal canvas, where you could pick and choose what went best with her pale complexion, and as you began to debate if you should paint her nails, too, just for an extra effect, you heard the basement door opening from the back of the mortuary, where the cemetery is, and you glanced over to notice two young men walking down into the crept with a wooden box in their hands.

"O-oi miss! Where should we put –"

"Over there. If you're not going to make it easy, place the box on the ground by that empty metal table, and if you are, take the body out and place it on top," you stated, simply, ignoring them completely as you decided that, yes, you will paint your nails, but with clear nail polish. So, you reached for a nail filler, cleaning up her nails, especially the dirt from between her nails, before you began to paint both her hand and toe nails with the clear nail polish. Usually, you won't bother, especially with the males… but this woman, at least to you, feels like she would have liked to have her nails painted, for her last big party.

"_Oh my~_… Lovely, my dear," you heard a familiar voice from behind you, before arms wrapped around your shoulders, but you let out a slight huff in response.

"Thanks. Now, help me get her into her dress, please," you told Undertaker, barely giving him a glance as you easily slipped out of his grasp, but he simply followed your movements, gently taking the shroud off of the woman's body, revealing her naked body to anyone that was in viewing distance. "I really don't understand why we need to put corsets on the dead. It's not like they'll be using them," you decided to say as you carefully placed the unlaced and pulled apart corset over the woman's head, and down her shoulders, while Undertaker calmly held the guest upright so you wouldn't have to shimmy the corset onto the corpse's body.

"It's a style. Besides, some of our guests won't be able to get into their own dresses, without a corset on," he stated, but you simply scoffed in response as you began to tug on the strings, but with care so you wouldn't damage the already pale and bruised skin.

"I suppose," you mumbled, the two of you growing quiet as you finished tightening the corset, before you grabbed the woman's white dress and gently placed the ends over her head. It was more of a nightgown then an actual, fancy Victorian dress… but… you think you couldn't have done this any better.

"Lovely, my dear," you heard Undertaker say, sneaking you quick peck on the cheek before he gently picked up the latest guest, holding her against his chest as he continued, "and the Yard just brought in the two corpses from the latest murder."

"Oh… Good to know. Thank you –"

"Don't worry. I'll handle the funeral, for the day. Look over the dead, my love," he smirked at you, before he began to make his leave, and you sighed to yourself before you calmly made your way to the two corpses sitting upon two metal tables.

The past few days has been terribly busy. A lot of deaths, five funerals, and you just finished the last guest for their big day. And now…

Your eyes stared wearily over at the burnt bodies, and as the cellar door to the crypt, as you like to call this basement, closed, you sighed, closing your eyes and blinking to adjust yourself to the darkness, before you went back to work. Slowly, you looked at each part, grabbing a nearby stack of paper and a pencil, scribbling down what you saw upon the two pieces of paper. The names of the dead, identified by the police and labeled on a piece of paper, tied by string on their big toe, a possible age, and possible death. Death by burning… human combustion. Simple, yet not simple at all.

And then you moved on to the visible indications. The areas of burnt flesh, holes in organs where there shouldn't be, and even burnt bones. These victims… you cannot have an open casket for them. It's more traumatic for the family to see their loved ones this way, and repairing them… it's almost impossible. The time period you came from, even this sort of death… you wouldn't be able to fix it.

They cannot look whole, again.

Which sucks, since you, at the very least, try to make every single 'guest' look as perfect as the last day they were living, breathing humans.

Oh well.

Still… thirteen bodies… You should be afraid, but maybe you're just relieved? Relieved that… it **could** be over?

You hope?

But something in your head was telling you that, no, it was just the beginning, until your eyes came across the latest victim and you noticed something peculiar sitting deep inside her heart. Slowly, hesitantly, you reached inside, careful to not damage the scar tissue and burnt pieces of organ, to uncover…

A bright glowing blue substance, and as you cradled it into your hands, your eyes began to grow wider and wider… as the glow became brighter and brighter.

"Clara, love, I'll be –"

"Get down!" you shouted, chucking the ring as far away from your body as you could, towards a corner of the room as you hit the ground. You heard Undertaker let out a surprised yelp, and you whimpered, your hands over your head as you waited for the energy blast to die down.

In an instant, the world felt… calm, and slowly you opened your eyes, quickly turning to see if Undertaker was okay. Only to notice that he was right above you. "… Undertaker?"

"Hey. Love. Are you alright?" he asked, a light hearted smile on his face, but you gently began to push him off of you.

"Fine, but are you –"

"I'm alright," he smirked, before his head turned to glare at the item you chuckled across the room, only for your head to follow his as you looked at what had happened.

You outwardly groaned as you noticed bits of flesh across most of the room, and as you sat up and the man leaned back to kneel down on his own knees, assessing the damage, you saw that one body had been blown up to smithereens, and another with half of its leg missing. "Fucking… great. Just great. Not again," you shuddered at the thought of cleaning up gunk, again, but slowly you stood to your feet, sighing to yourself as you brushed the dirt from your knees, and you barely gave Undertaker a second look, or hear the pitter patter of footsteps rushing above your head and towards the basement stairs, as you calmly made your way to the ring you had chucked across the room.

You sighed, mostly out of frustration, but also out of relief as you picked up the familiar item, smiling tiredly at the bright blue gemstone… the cause of this entire mess, and the lightly glowing silver gleam of the thin metal band. But, as you regained your senses, you sensed something… familiar, and with an irritable growl you walked over to the last victim in this entire mess, grabbing her old clothes that you had thrown into a pile, to pull out a note.

"Lady Clara, are you alright? –"

"I'm fine… Vincent, what brings you here?" you scoffed, wiping some of the fleshy gunk from the note and wiping some more onto your apron, before you began to pry open the letter, barely giving him a second look as your mind was on other important matters.

"Well, our majesty, the Queen, has sent me to deal with a particular problem –"

"I'll handle it," you growled in irritation as you began to read the letter, seeing a familiar name and a familiar signature, as your hands began to tighten around the letter out of pure pint up rage.

"But –"

"I'll handle it!" you scoffed, shoving the letter into a pocket in your apron before pointing a finger up at his face. "This just became my problem, Vincent, and you are not, under any circumstances, going to finish this mission you're on."

"C-clara –"

"**No**. If you do, I'm not calling you a friend anymore," you spoke bluntly, before you turned away, putting a hand on your face as you sighed, tiredly, before you felt arms suddenly wrapping around your shoulders and a head on top of your own. "… **Not now**."

"Clara, love… I think it's about time you explain things to Vincent, _hmm~?_" you heard Undertaker say against your head, causing your eyes to open to glare at the two darkened figures across the room.

"We're a bit busy –"

"We can take some time off. The dead will still be around, and besides, I think we should close up for the rest of the day. I'll finish with Lady Eleanor's funeral and then be right back… Love?"

"… Fine," you agreed, reluctantly, feeling the man kiss you on the cheek before he walked over to Vincent, whispering something lowly enough that you couldn't hear, but you honestly didn't care. Not right now.

Not as you looked over at the three burnt corpses, sitting and waiting to be prepared for their final rest. This just… you just want to cry.

But you sighed, deeply, pushing away your internal pain. Your conflicts.

Now isn't the time to get emotional. There's work to be done, and right now… maybe it is the best time to tell Vincent the truth?

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Shouldn't you, at the very least, clean up –"

"I can get to that in a moment… Arigatō," you mumbled in a sad tone, but you gave Tanaka a meek smile as he handed you a cup of recently brewed tea, before calmly making his way back to his master's side and standing behind him, dutifully.

After the chaos had settled down, and after Undertaker finally left with the small group of grievers that showed up to transport Eleanor's body to a church for her funeral, you brought the two men up to the top floor, and you could tell Vincent was curious. He wanted to explore, see every nook and cranny he may or may not have seen in ages, if ever, but knew that now wasn't the time to enjoy the living quarters.

Because, right now… you just… felt so bad.

"… Clara," he began, getting your attention, but only slightly, as you kept the tea cup on your lap and stared tiredly at the wooden table you sat at to eat your meals, "what… How about we start simply? Maybe with the case?" Vincent started, giving his butler a look, and the man nodded before walking into the kitchen to clean up any sort of messes he may have made as he was making his lord some tea.

"There have been thirteen deaths, so far, and the public says that it's due to human combustion. Bodies burning from the inside, out. Her majesty would like for me to look into this scandal because she personally believes that it most likely has something to do with the underworld… Now, apparently, you know more then what you're letting on," he stated, his gaze falling upon the slightly glowing object in your hand, tightly bound into your fist as you refused to let the man see it. "The other undertakers in London refuse to take in these bodies, as if they are cursed –"

"They just don't know what's going on," you replied in a soft mumble, sipping on your tea as you tried to calm your shaky nerves.

"… R-right. So… **what** is going on? As the Queen's Watchdog, I need to get to the bottom of this case, and if you will be standing in my way Lady Graves… I know that the Undertaker, these days, has become protective of you. Surely you want my help," he spoke, as if his sweet voice and comforting tone was enough to sway you.

Honestly, it's not. You know he just wants information out of you, and all you could do is tightly close your eyelids, your lungs feeling tight, your breathing becoming heavier… while you tried to calm yourself. But, the energy emitting from the ring, threatening to swallow you whole…

You're going to have to get rid of this… poison, before you can go after those assholes.

"… There's… something that I haven't told anyone… that," you continued, your eyes finally opening as you looked over at the man with a sad, exhausted look on your face, "pertains to this case of yours, sure, but… I'm more afraid of your reaction, Vincent," you spoke, pausing for a moment before you calmly took out a rag, placing your tea down, before you placed the clean rag in the middle of the table, before you carefully placed the ring on top.

You watched as the man's eyes widened, probably sensing the same attraction as you first felt, when you first saw your family's ring. When you first saw the ring on your uncle's finger, as if it was luring you… telling you…

That it's yours… and you're made for it.

"W-where… did you get that? –"

"Don't touch it," you hissed as you leaned over the table, slapping the man's hand away before he could, and you both stared into each other's eyes, your blue eyes harsh and unyielding while his brown eyes were wide and confused, before you both slowly backed away, sitting back down into your respectable chairs while he sighed, his gaze falling upon his own family ring, his fingers wrapping around his ring finger as he began to play with his blue ring.

"… Who are you?" he asked quietly, hesitantly, and when you didn't utter a word, instead stare at your own ring with a weary look on your face, you flinched as you heard his voice rising, "Who are you? Clara, tell me! –"

"J-just… just breathe. I was going to answer," you told him, though honestly… you just don't want to. "… Who do **you** think I am?" you decided to ask, your head lifting up as you stared at the man from across the room, your mind completely forgetting that his butler is here, watching this entire scene unfold.

Honestly, you want to know what Tanaka is thinking. If he's scared or confused or even curious, but right now…

"You can probably find the answer in your gut, if you search enough," you decided to say, waiting patiently for Vincent's response. After all, if you start from nothing he's just be more confused. Maybe this way… he won't be so mad, and you can understand what exactly that man has been thinking, all this time. Why he's been so ecstatic to let you into his home, his life, and even accept your relationship with Undertaker so… willingly.

Without asking **why**.

"… Are you… my mother Claudia?" he asked, hesitantly, his eyes falling upon the ring with an irritated and even disgusted look crossing his face, "from the past?"

"Close, but no," you responded, a bit quicker and your tone a bit lighter, as you gave him a smile. Though, your smile didn't reach your sad eyes as you continued with a sigh, "I'm from the future, actually."

"Future? –"

"I am Clara Williams Phantomhive, one and only heir to the Phantomhive name. Any sort of nobility you hold now, Vincent, will eventually disappear… I'm just an ordinary girl, with a weird past that I'm hoping to forget," you told him, simply, your smile weaning as you sat back in your chair and sighed, deeply. Tiredly. "This is… too exhausting."

"You're telling me," you heard Vincent chuckle nervously, his eyes glancing from you to the ring and back to you before he continued as normally as possible, as if this discussion was normal… which it most certainly isn't, "you're some descendent of mine, then? Then, would it be right of me to call you a niece? Or even a granddaughter?" he grinned, deviously, and your tired look turned into irritation.

"Oh, I'm **not** your granddaughter, and don't even start. That'd just be too weird," you scoffed, but as the man chuckled to himself, apparently his words were an attempt to lighten the mood, a bit, you shook your head and sipped on your tea, trying to calm down.

"I'm sorry… I wanted to see your reaction," he snickered, pausing for a moment before his gloved hands wrapped around his own tea cup, and he sighed, tiredly. "… Huh… I just… had this thought that… you must be my mother. You look too much like her, and act like her for it not to be so."

"I am a Phantomhive so… that could be why," you decided to say, not going into the details as you continued, "but… if I'm going to be honest here, I didn't want to tell you."

"Why not? –"

"Because… it's weird," you stated as if the answer was obvious, huffing to yourself as you continued, "and honestly… I just wanted to try to live a normal life. Not deal with everything that, should be, outside of a human's control… but now…" you spoke, your eyes narrowing not at Vincent, but at the table. At the ring that sat in the middle as you glared at it, as if all of your troubles stemmed from this one item, "… I cannot… just sit by and continue to let idiots think they can mess up the universe, like this."

"S-so…" you heard Vincent begin, and you could tell he was confused as he continued, "could you… explain, maybe, why you're here? I understand if you don't want to tell me –"

"No. I mean… I should. Just…" you paused, staring at Tanaka and narrowing your eyes at him, before you turned back to Vincent and did the same thing, "nothing I say can leave this room. Absolutely nothing. You cannot tell your wife, your children, and even the Undertaker… **No** one. I'll know if you do," you continued simply, "… and just so you're aware, Undertaker knows a lot, alright… just don't assume he _knows __**everything~**_"

"I promise I won't say a word –"

"And why shouldn't you?" you snapped, not caring about the confused reaction he gave you in response. "What makes you think you won't blab by accident? Vincent, you're just human. You're both humans. Why should I believe you can keep a promise?"

You watched as his eyes stared widely at you, before his initial shock at your questions caused the man to pause, his gaze to stare at Tanaka, before he began to look at you. Studying you… thinking over your words with a calculating thought on his face.

"… You're right. There's no way to assume I can keep a promise," he decided to say, chuckling lowly to himself. "After all. I'm the Queen's Watchdog. The Hound of the Underworld. Lies and deception is how I survive… but," he continued, somberly, "when it comes to my family… I care about them, deeply. And, as far as I'm concerned, now, your family too. I don't personally know how Undertaker fits into all of this," he sighed, closing his eyes as he continued, "and it's frustrating, because I know I must have a connection with him, but it's not something I should be pursuing."

"… Yeah. You probably shouldn't. For your own sake. Some things are just best kept secret," you told him, smiling meekly, noticing the disappointed look on the man's face, but he continued with a light smile.

"But, I will promise you I won't utter a word. I swear. Not to the Queen, my family… even Undertaker, if I mustn't. Usually I don't care this much, but I have this feeling I probably need to," he decided to say, and you gave Tanaka a curious glance in return.

"I am a Phantomhive butler. My lord's secrets are my secrets, as well. You don't have to worry, Lady Graves."

"… Alright," you sighed, letting in a deep breath before breathing out slowly, continuing the process a couple of times as you closed your eyes, calming your nerves to the best of your ability, before you turned back to Vincent and gave him a meek, tired smile, though on the inside you wished you didn't have to do this. "There's a lot so… just stay quiet with your questions until I reach the end," you began, pausing before you continued. "And yes, I'll explain how and why I know about this particular problem. Just… I need to explain myself, first, before you can even begin to comprehend everything else," you told them, your hands wrapping around your tea cup before you drank some more tea, glancing into the cup to notice it was mainly empty before placed it to the side, crossing your arms and setting them onto the table as you leaned forward, mulling over everything.

What was important to say… and what should be left to be forgotten about. If you should even bother with… the entire explanation. If you should say things you haven't even explained to Undertaker, yet.

But… you decided, you needed to start saying something. To explain… why… Vincent needs to sit this one out. Why you need to handle this situation… and not him.

Not him.

You can't lose another family member, like that. Not like this.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

**A/N: BAM! NEXT CHAPTER! WHOOP!**

**I wasn't sure if I'd post another, but decided to. **

**Just so you guys know, when I was thinking of 'the girl who may like red' I was thinking of Madame Red. Yeah, I was, but no, she's not dead. Think of it as a 'what if'. If Angelina died giving birth to her child, rather then her husband and baby dying because of a carriage crash. **

**But no, that corpse from the beginning isn't the madame. That was just where my mind went when I was creating that portion of the story.**

**Yep! Here's the great reveal to the Queen's Watchdog! Honestly, I wasn't going to do this… but I decided that it was needed. This way, Vincent and Clara can work together on things. And she won't have to explain why she has her family ring.**

**But, that's about it. ENJOY your week!**


	34. London Murders Arc: The Truth 2

**A/N: I'll be going to work soon, but I decided to review this chapter before I leave, since I have some time.**

**Yep! Now Vincent knows, and there's a mess of demons showing up for no real reason. Well… maybe there is a reason, but it won't be solved as quickly as Clara would like it to be. Anyways, I hope you guys are ENJOYING the story. Maybe I'll post another chapter… but it probably won't happen until, at the very least, tomorrow or maybe after my shifts are over. Considering Easter is now over, it's the usual steady, slow flow of customers. So, hopefully, I won't have to deal with a lot of stress. ENJOY the rest of you week, guys!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Is… all of that really going to happen? The… apocalypse? The end?" you heard Vincent ask, and you could tell his butler was also unnerved by this revelation.

But all you could do is smile meekly in response.

"I should be dead, right now," you decided to say, but as you noticed Vincent shaking his head, about to utter something, you continued, "but… Undertaker found me. Healed me from the wounds I had… and… I… was given another chance," you smiled meekly, but then your eyes stared at the ring, glaring at it as if it was the bane of your existence, "but now… it's no longer possible to pretend that nothing has been happening. That everything is alright.

"I had this fear, at first, that the ones that ended up being thrown back in time would end up messing up time… and could… start planning an early end of days, planning on starting the rapture and all that crap. I-I just… pretended it wasn't happening. For the longest time," you sighed, your head plopping down on your hands as you leaned into the table, losing your composure as you sighed tiredly, once more, "I just… accepted. I accepted that… that I cannot go back home. This has to be my home, now. I need to make a life here in Victorian England. If not here, somewhere.

"And maybe it was my chance to be human, again. I lost my humanity so long ago… I-it was weird, to lose my heightened senses. Lose what… I grew to develop, over the years. I was surprised that my Phantomhive ring hadn't returned to me. Maybe there could only be only one, I kept telling myself, but…" you frowned, glaring at the ring as you continued, "I cannot continue to sit by and let innocence get killed and destroyed by the evil that is out there. I cannot just accept that the world is okay, because it ain't. It ain't okay… If I just… let this all happen all over again… I'd be just as terrible as any other demon out there.

"I tried to get the reapers to start doing stuff. Maybe, preparing early or, at the very least, start having conversations. Changing their ways. Being a bit better at their jobs, but… nothing," you scoffed in disgust. "They're ignoring the problem, and now, so have I…

"… I guess what I'm trying to get at," you continued, your eyes staring at the ring rather then at the people who were listening to you, as you scoffed tiredly, "is that… this is my problem. It truly is. If the reapers won't take this seriously, and the angels won't be helpful, I **need** to do something. The thing with this… New Jerusalem group is that… this is a warning. A threat. They're tempting me to go out and confront them, "you scoffed in annoyance, "and… they're taunting me.

"Vincent, if you finish this case, they'll kidnap you, maybe even kill you, but more importantly they're going to use you as leverage to get to me. They could end up kidnapping your family, our family… they will stop at nothing to get to me –"

"Why, though?" he scoffed, your head moving to look at him, just slightly, as he continued with a disgusted huff leaving his breath. "You're just a girl. A Phantomhive, sure, but if you're just a human then why would they bother you like this?"

"… What the reapers didn't understand," you continued in a meek tone, "is that… while they attempted to create the perfect reaper that could take down the devils, stop the war, and stop the apocalypse… what they were really doing is starting it," you decided to say, pausing for a moment before you scoffed, suddenly sitting up properly to glare in his general direction. "It was absurd. Obviously, certain beings wanted it to happen. That's why no one is doing a damn thing to stop it! The council, their god damned council, is corrupt as shit! Of course, the underlings are being kept out of the dark about this, but if I'm not careful, they are not careful… everything is going to start centuries too early. I cannot let that happen," you scoffed in disgust, "and, I do not want them to try to birth a bunch of children like me, ever again. I had to go through so much pain and torment before I got the truth, and even then, it hurts. The pain is **still** there… I don't want another child to suffer like me, just because they're desperate for a solution," you told him, pausing before you looked back to Vincent, looking him in the eyes before you sighed, tiredly.

"What they want from me… is for me to turn back into that powerhouse I used to be. The one that could level entire buildings with a single energy swipe and slaughter millions in the span of seconds. What they want is to control me, and in this form I'm in now, they could capture me, then force me into becoming that… thing I always hated," you scoffed, but then paused, your eyes looking away mostly out of regret, "but… then again… it was all necessary a-and… I tried so hard to not be that monster… I just let it happen," you stated, suddenly brushing away a stray tear before you looked back at him, as seriously as you could muster. "There's a lot a simple human cannot understand. I could try to explain everything, but even then, it'd be difficult.

"Let's just say that what the council did in a desperate attempt to have strong children… well, what they wanted was for the personification of Death to reemerge in a child," you told them, specifically at Vincent. "My human bloodline had that strength to pull off any sort of transformation, and my reaper blood is inclined to be entranced by Death, already. My half brother… he failed my father," you continued in a sad tone, "and so, I was created. Considering my mother was already curious about the dead, it wasn't too hard to have sex with her, then have me. I didn't even know about all this crap until I was about eight, and even now I cannot possibly understand the point to this.

"… Do you know… how, in the Book of Revelation, there are four horsemen of the apocalypse? There are a lot of ways to interpret that book, but… while it was a dream, it also wasn't a dream. It shows the present, the past, and the future all at once.

"The thing I'm getting at is… the four horsemen are four different sides of Death itself. It's more of a… personification then it is an actual living, breathing entity. Pagans would call Death a god, but… it's not quite that either. It just… something that exists. Like Life, like Light and Dark, Good and Evil. All of that. It's just there.

"And the book says that when all four come, the apocalypse will happen. The end of days will be here. Doomsday. The end of the world, all of that… but strangely enough, each horseman has a mix of both good and bad. Life and Death. That's not something the reapers could fully understand. They just understood that they needed half grim reaper, half human babies to **make** it happen… and, amongst other problems… it was just inevitable," you sighed, closing your eyes tightly before you shook your head and scoffed, "and stupid. Honestly stupid. Whoever thought it was a good idea should drop dead, right here and now. All of that triggered the apocalypse because they had the four, at the same time. Four children, humans willingly becoming grim reapers, in one way or another, and that's what started everything. And while we fought to stop it…

"I lost a lot, Vincent," you scoffed, "and… I-I don't know if it'll just happen, even if I do nothing. Even if I do something. Time travel… it's not an easy thing to wrap your mind around. Trust me. I-I don't know if this is some other timeline, if I just need to accept that my universe got destroyed and my actions will stop the apocalypse… or if I trigger it, because I do things in attempt to stop it. It's beyond my understanding," you huffed, "and sadly, that's just something I have to accept, these days.

"The point I'm trying to make is… I guess… I was hoping I wouldn't have to get involved, but it seems like, to me, I may just have to," you pouted, reaching and grabbing your ring as you stared at it with an irritated glare. "… The Phantomhives are cursed, Vincent. Whether you wish to admit that to yourself or not. In one way, in another way. In many ways, from our own doing and just by fate, we are just cursed. It just… sucks… but I am a Phantomhive," you continued, picking off a piece of dried flesh from your ring before scoffing underneath your breath, "and while I am not bound to anything, no loyalty to a god or a queen or anything, I cannot… just let this happen," you sighed, shaking your head as you slowly set the ring down upon the table, but now it was in front of you instead of in the center of the table. "I don't want you to be involved because I don't know if it'll change fate. If you'll end up dead too early. If something gets too messed up.

"Just… you need to let me handle this. That's what I want to say. That's why I told you everything… I want to see you happy," you continued in a sad, meek tone, and you gave him a meek smile in return. "I want your family to be happy. For however long that'll be, you need to enjoy your family. Your wife, children, everything. Cause, it never lasts. Not for us Phantomhives… just… please. I know you have a buttload of reasons to why you need to help me, but please… don't. If you know what's good for you," you finished, waiting for an answer.

And you heard him scoff.

"Seriously? The point is to deter me? Clara, I do have an order from the Queen and –"

"Doesn't matter. I'll even tell you what happens, let you see the scene of the crime, but I won't let you get directly involved. No. I cannot allow it," you huffed, holding up a hand before he could continue. "**No**."

"… I won't let you go alone," Vincent spoke, softly, hesitantly, and all you could do is let out a huffy snort. "I'm being serious. It's dangerous. Not just because you're a woman. I know the strength of women, understand that. J-just… you need to be happy too. I wouldn't be doing all of this, being a Watchdog, if I didn't believe that my work was benefiting others that deserve it," he decided to say, your eyes staring at him happily, though also sadly at his own conviction. "I get rid of the bad, live amongst the evils of the world, so the good people out there can have happy, fulfilling lives. How can I accept you doing any of this, if I cannot help? At least let me help, Clara."

"… No –"

"Lara! –"

"**Don't** be a whiny brat," you scoffed in irritation. "When I say no, accept that. I've acted sweet and proper and whatever, and I've tried my best to be, well, human, but no. I don't care what you want, Vincent. I **need** you to be safe –"

"And let me guess, you won't, at the very least, let Undertaker go with you?" he spat out, and as he noticed that you were sitting there, staring at him with a tired, hurt look on your face, he huffed. "… Just as I thought. You cannot push people away like this, Clara. You're going to end up alone and dead before you reach –"

"I was supposed to be dead by now! Hell, I was supposed to be dead by the time I reached my twenties! I was ready to be a martyr! Do not, **do not** tell me that! Don't you think I know that?" you began to sniffle, noticing you had stood to your feet in your rage, and your sudden burst of anger shocked Vincent, and even Tanaka, but you didn't care. Your hands gripped into fists upon the table, as you tightly closed your eyelids in an attempt to stop your tears. "I push people away to protect them. I'm a fucking walking curse, and I know that. If I can just… not mess up, for once, **just**… I'm tired of being weak," you decided to say, opening your eyes as you began to wipe your tears away, exhaling in an attempt to calm yourself.

Just… stay calm. You need to stay calm and not freak out too much.

You don't want your asthma from flaring up, again, and if you're bedridden… Vincent will just get himself killed.

You know it.

You just do.

"I'm tired of reapers thinking that I'm just better off as a human. Maybe I'm not, okay? A-and I'm tired of pretending that everything is okay, cause it ain't. it ain't okay… A-and I just… won't accept you throwing your life away. I don't care if I do. In fact, living on the edge has always kept me going. I don't dwell on too many dark thoughts, too often," you scoffed, sniffing and rubbing at your face to stop your tears. "I don't know how many times I have to say this. No. No, you cannot come with me. And no, I will not accept it if you do show up, unexpectedly. I won't. How dare you think I'm okay with you doing this," you huffed, but you flinched as you felt arms around you, staring up wide eyed only to narrow your eyes in raw anger. "How long have you been listening?!"

"Well… the part where you both wanted to kill yourselves," Undertaker smirked, snickering at the grumbling noises you made, but you let him slump his head on top of yours, glancing over at the two other humans, who stared at him, probably shocked that he showed up almost out of thin air, before Vincent huffed in response.

"How can you just let Clara do this to herself? –"

"I don't like this anymore then you, boy," he began, but you flinched, mainly out of confusion then shock as he kissed the side of your head, "but… I promised to be supportive… and I never stop a human when it comes to their choices. I lost my ability to choose a very long time ago… but I'm going to have to say that you need to bring someone –"

"Right, right. Back to that again. No," you stated bluntly, only to feel your body being moved around so Undertaker was facing you, smiling lightly at you, only for your eyes to glare up at him and a low snarl to leave your breath. "**Undertaker** –"

"I also told you that I'd have your back. Do you believe that I cannot be helpful to you? Is that it? I can show you, if you truly believe that I cannot take down a few pesky demons –"

"T-that's not it –"

"And if you fear that I'll die, I don't care. I died a very long time ago –"

"That's not it either! I don't want to lose you," you stated, gasping as he hugged you tightly, only for an annoyed huff to leave your breath. "… Don't read too much into that."

"_I will~_" he snickered, before he gently let you go, only to run his long hand over the side of your cheek, and you began to look away. Noticing your sad stare, he could only let out a tired huff in response. "… I don't think Vincent should go –"

"Hey! –"

"But… I won't let you walk to your inevitable demise alone. I'm not willing to lose you, either," he stated, only to stare at you sadly as you looked at him, close to breaking down into tears, again.

"I-it's just… w-what if… you hate what I am?" you had to state, only to see the man smirk widely in response.

"Hey now. I'll love whatever you are. Whoever you are. You just need to accept yourself, Clara," he told you, and you let out a shaky sigh. "… Please. Please say yes," he continued, frowning as you backed away, slightly, only to turn around and grab your family ring, looking at it with distain.

But your irritation over the situation became a soft numbing feeling, and you sighed. "… There are so rules if you go," you decided to say, only to feel his arms wrapping around you, again.

"Great! I'll do whatever you wish!" he giggled, causing you to blush madly, and noticing the amused look on Tanaka's face, and the slight blush on Vincent's own face, you put your hands to your face and let out a whimpering groan.

"_**Stoooop~**_"

"Nope. Never," Undertaker snickered, playfully poking the side of your cheek before he turned to the other humans, giving Vincent, in particular, a light smile. "We'll take it from here, dear earl."

"… If you're sure –"

"I am. I don't make promises I cannot keep," he stated, only for Vincent to scoff.

"I'll be in the city. Come by the townhouse once you're done, and tell me what happened," Vincent stated, only for his gaze to turn to you. "… Are you serious? Do you know what you're doing?"

"I **never** know what I'm doing," you smirked in response, only to hear the man scoff, but you chuckled lightly to yourself. "Vincent, just breathe. Just give us tonight."

"Tonight?" you heard Undertaker ask, but you turned your head to give the man a slight smirk.

"Yes. I know exactly how to find them. Where they are… but can I really trust you?" you decided to say, only for the man to give you a light smile in return.

"Of course, love. Anything, for you."

"You're not just saying that because I'm like Claudia, right?" you huffed in irritation, only to feel the man pat you on the head.

"No. You're completely improper, compared to that countess."

"H-hey! –"

"Vincent," Undertaker spoke, causing the Phantomhive to sigh lightly, only to give the man a slight nod in return.

"Hmm… you two enjoy your evening, and I'll pay for any damages."

"Don't worry about it," you told him, only for the man to give you a meek smile.

"Yes… stay safe, Clara. Undertaker."

"You too, Vincent… Tanaka-sensei," you decided to say, the man giving you a light smile and a nod before he grabbed his lord's coat, effortlessly placing it upon his shoulders.


	35. London Murders Arc: The Truth 3

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Sorry for not updating for… a week now? Yeah. It's been about a week.**

**I decided to take a bit of a break. Last week was tiresome for me, and I needed some time to myself. Plus, when I got interrupted in finishing my chapter 49, I kind of lost my momentum with this story. But, now I'm back! At least, I'm going to try to be. What's really killed me here is that I've been lacking sleep. Sleeping much longer then 8hrs, but then I'm not sleeping a full 8hrs at a time. Broken up into smaller hours, composing of naps. Yeah… I'm a terrible sleeper. I need to work on it.**

**Maybe I have insomnia? Or something else? More likely, it's my crappy old bed/mattress. That's half of my problems. **

**Anyways, here's another upload. Maybe I'll post one more tonight, before bed? Or after I've showered. I'm not sure, yet. **

**I have listened to your guys' suggestions/comments. I've been thinking… maybe I'll have an alternate/post story about Undertaker and Clara's family. I actually started it, to get my mind off of some things and get my creative juices flowing. Maybe? I don't know if it'll be canon to THIS story, but if you guys would like me to post it, don't be afraid to ask! I decided, though, in order to write that particular story, that it's an alternate story. Unless this story ends VERY happily, and quickly, then when the timeline of the 'baby' story [as I've called it in my docs] starts would be VERY soon and show up VERY quickly. So, it's an alternate story. Thing is, I'm not sure if I'll reach that point in THIS story… so… yeah…**

**If you guys want me to post it DO LEAVE A COMMENT. Or some indication that you guys would like to see it. I'll probably post it on this site, if I DO post that story. Thing is, dealing with writing TWO stories can cause me to be a bit flustered. I wouldn't even think about posting it until I have more of the story written, so… yeah. And with that story, sure, you may want to read this story first, but it wouldn't be mandatory to understanding the 'baby/family' story. **

**So… YEAH! If you guys would like to read it, do comment! Cause I probably won't post it, otherwise. I may just continue with this story, instead, and not bother with it… but I haven't decided if I will, yet.**

**And as for the smut/no smut poll on my profile page, so far you guys are in favor of smut. Right now, I probably won't be adding it in, yet. I'll tell you when I will, though! But it won't be for a while. I know I keep saying that, but, a, I need to be in a mood to write that sort of stuff. If I was going to make this a smutty story I would have started it out that way, and b, I'm currently writing some rather intense/emotional stuff. And, their relationship isn't quite there, yet. Yeah, it's slow, but I wouldn't put Clara as the type of gal to jump into a relationship, considering all the problems she's had with relationships in the past, and Undertaker… well, I've read him being a smuttster and other times he's the one who has trouble falling in love. And for this story, yeah. Slow is key, for now.**

**But anyways, I think that's about it! Sorry to keep you guys hanging for a bit. Once again, I kind of needed a break from reviewing and writing and posting. I'm feeling a lot better, these days. I think I was sick?... I mean, I do get hay fever in the spring. Actually, my favorite season, now, is fall, and spring is my least favorite season. I'm sure if I wasn't sick and dying I'd enjoy spring, but I usually don't. Now that I'm not in school, the anticipation of summer break isn't there anymore. So, yeah. Not my favorite season. But, yeah! ENJOY this story! And your week! And I'll talk to you guys later!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"I thought you were going to be at your townhouse," you scoffed the moment you reached the top of the stairs, two buckets filled with water in your hands, and your scowl only deepened while Vincent turned with a smirk on his face.

"I couldn't take away this opportunity to enjoy your living situation, my dear –"

"Shut up. What are you doing with my sketchbook?" you huffed, thanking Tanaka as he took the buckets from your hands, placing them onto a counter in the kitchen while Vincent chuckled to himself.

"_This is yours~?_ I thought this was Undertaker's –"

"No, it's mine –"

"You're a very morbid individual, Clara," you heard Vincent say, but all you could do is roll your eyes as you gripped the other bucket, telling Tanaka that this bucket is for you. "… Should we go?"

"I mean, I don't honestly care. This place won't be any safer then just staying at your own residency," you scoffed, making your way into the hallway towards the bathroom, and you topped off your bathtub water, feeling the water to make sure it was warm enough and you wouldn't have to wait, or it got too cold, before you made your way back into the living room. "I'm changing. It'll be your fault if you walk in on me," you stated, smirking at the silence you got from Vincent, though you could tell he was blushing, and you turned to Tanaka and continued, "and we have leftovers from last night in the ice box. It'll be in the crypt, Tanaka-sensei."

"We could not possibly eat your food –"

"Nonsense. You're guests. If you want to be helpful, there's a hunk of beef. You can cut that up and make a nice dinner with it, and save the leftovers for me. I'm going to be hungry after this is over," you finished, leaving the men to… whatever it is they've been doing, but luckily for you no one followed you into the hallway, as you went between your bedroom and the bathroom to gather your belongings.

Finally, you got to wash up, though you know you'll end up having to get another bathe, again. But after the explosion and the ring and the mess you just cleaned up… yeah. You need something to relax yourself, and relaxing in a warm bathe or taking a nice long shower was enough to calm your nerves, if only a tad. The scented soaps, shampoo, and conditioner helped with your mood, as well, and as you ran the suds through your hair, making sure to get every little corner and scratch every inch, your eyes couldn't help but stare at the ring… you had sitting upon the sink's countertop.

You sighed tiredly to yourself.

Here, you thought the worse was over… but now, it seems like everything is beginning, again.

There was a lot you didn't tell Vincent. It was just easier to keep some things secret, but…

There was more to that 'four horsemen' thing you wanted to say, but luckily he didn't ask. More that you didn't want to reveal… yet.

And it's better that Undertaker didn't know just how close you were to… becoming one of them. Letting Death enter your being and manipulate your very soul. Your essence. Who you are as a being. You were so, so close to letting that happen…

Yet… at the end of the day, you wanted that to happen. To forget, everything. To let everything go. To show those damn council members that they cannot manipulate you… and destroy them. Utterly obliterate them.

Cause you're not War. Far from it. Sure, you have this strange bloodlust, when you let your reaper side take over too much. You get angry and emotional… but what's scarier, you've noticed, is when you just left everything…

Go.

An emotionless doll. No longer working for the sake of yourself, but for Death. Death's will, Death's choices… It's… scary, to lose that free will, but…

Oddly enough, it didn't feel weird or foreign. It felt… right.

Perfect…

Simply easy…

But the moment you think that way, you stop. You get scared and freak out. That's why you didn't become the very thing Undertaker feared from you. Those 'ancient legends' the council wanted to revive. Bring back to take out the threats that had opposed them. A reason why… the remaining 'legends' died off, regardless if they left the association or not. If they turned their backs on their own kind, or not.

The connection… to Death is still strong. If you let it in…

Your eyes fell back upon the ring before you sighed tiredly, again. Is this really up for debate? It shouldn't be, but for you, it feels like it is.

You let yourself become disillusioned that… you forgot… you began to forget the point. Why you're here. Why you're alive. Why you exist… More importantly, why you should keep fighting.

There's more to this war then just you. You know that. This… spiritual warfare. Every single time you thought you were going to die, you hoped it was the end. That it could finally stop… but no. Here you are, sucked back into the fight. Forced to do what you don't want to… but you do. Cause you're going to do it. Regardless what others think.

If you think you're weak or they want to be nice. That you don't deserve this. Well… it doesn't matter, because at the end of the day… this isn't about you.

It's about every single creature that ends up dead because of a bunch of idiots. Every life that is snuffed out, because no one can simply agree. No one wants to stop this. No one cares.

You care. And damn it, you're going to stop those demons before they mess everything up!

A new sense of determination, and a lot of stubbornness caused you to leave the tub, unclog the drain, and wipe the water off of your body before you wrapped a towel around your body and make your way into your bedroom. Closing the door with a kick of your foot, your ring in hand, you gripped the ring tightly, the bright blue stone glowing before you summoned a fairly large black and brown chest, with your family crest painted on with white paint on the top, and you held up your foot to stop the chest from flinging itself into the wall.

You sighed, placing the ring aside, as you opened the chest to look at its contents. Items… you weren't ever going to use again. Clothing… you never thought you'd see again. You don't know if you're excited, happy, or scared, but… you're going to do this.

You need to. You have to.

For every damned thing that happened in the future. For every promise you've ever made. You've worked and fought, and now is the time to stop playing it safe.

If the reapers won't do a damn thing… if Michael won't do anything… if everyone will just push you away… fine. So be it.

"I'm a Phantomhive, damn it," you scoffed in irritation, before you reached for your clothes, throwing certain items and tools onto your bed before you closed the chest, using your foot to shove it into a bright blue glowing portal, and once it disappeared you took off your towel, rubbing the water out of your hair and using a comb to brush parts of your damp hair, before you threw the towel aside and began to put on your clothes.

**Your** clothes.

It felt so… nice to be back in your own clothes. Clothing you bought, made, decided upon on your own. Things that make you, you. You've… missed this.

But also, you need to hide yourself away from these… pests. Not until the time is right. Not until you're ready to reveal yourself and… slaughter them. Like cattle.

Cause you're sick of playing games. This is going to end, here and now.

And then you'll deal with the results of your actions.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You sighed to yourself as you fixed your black juban, making sure everything was in order before you reached for your, heavier, accessories. Your hidden blades, outer armor, and ornamental items that just made your outfit… you.

You know your enemies are expecting you, but you need to dress the way you are supposed to. What your sensei taught you. After all, you wouldn't be a professional assassin otherwise. Still… it felt weird, yet… familiar wearing these clothes, and you couldn't stop yourself from smirking to yourself as you stood at the mirror, fixing every little item and inspecting yourself to make sure everything was secure. Your dark blue hakama was bound in place by your wide obi, decorated with a thin silver cord across the obi, while you tied it in the back of your body, securing the obi in place. Your knot was a simple design, without too much effort put into it, but you'd rather have it behind your back, slightly to the side, closer to your right side then your left, so you can draw your weapon quicker.

Your tanto, a small reaper blade, with the blade disguised behind a black, wooden demon sheath, was the only weapon you had in the open, placed behind your back, at your side, to be drawn out by your left hand. You had some hidden throwing blades, underneath your black and blue robes, and you began to secure your blackened padded armor upon your shoulders and knees. You grabbed your black socks, tugging them upward to make sure they were secure, before you knelt down and slipped your black, dirty ballerina slippers onto your feet. You sighed, standing back up, glancing at your hair with a thoughtful look on your face. Your hair, tied up into a simple ponytail instead of a bun, tied behind your head with a black ribbon. You reached for your dark navy blue scarf, wrapping it around your neck and letting the ends flutter behind your back, while you grabbed the front and made sure the scarf was tight enough around your face to be secure.

There. Good enough.

This wasn't your official outfit… or even the outfit you almost died in, but this was good enough. An attire that could hide your human and reaper nature, even hide your nature entirely. The Japanese style robes, made with demonic materials, and your scarf, given to you by Death itself… once.

But it's not just your scarf. It's actually a cloak. A black sheet that can increase and decrease in size, but it can render you completely invisible… to everything and everyone.

If you make it that way.

With a sigh you grabbed your Phantomhive ring from a table, before you grabbed a pair of fingerless gloves, which had black steel padding on top of the hands, and slowly began to slip them on. You bound the gloves over your kimono sleeves with long black ribbon, before you looked back at your ring.

The entire reason why you're in this mess. This damned ring… damn it. Why? Why do you have to care so much?

You know if Vincent won't freak out, then it'll certainly be Tanaka as you slipped your ring into a pocket in your robes before you began to walk out of your bedroom, noticing that Undertaker had returned. Finally.

You heard something smash, a glass Tanaka was holding, and you gave him a meek smile before you tugged on your scarf, revealing your lower half of your face. "H-hey."

"… What a strange outfit," you heard Vincent respond, only to hear Tanaka let out an annoyed snort.

"You're an assassin," you heard Tanaka say, only for a meek smile to appear upon your face as you turned to acknowledge the butler.

"Former –"

"_**What clan?"**_ he asked, in his native tongue, and you gave him a curious look before you smirked deviously in reply, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued in a confident tone.

"_**It's not a human clan, if that's what you're asking. My training is enough to take down the evils of the world… as well as heavenly,"**_ you stated, before you turned back to the other two males to give them meek smiles. "Are you sure you want to accompany me, Undertaker?"

"Why not? –"

"I-it's just… if you get hurt –"

"I'm more worried that you'll be the one getting hurt, my dear," he smirked, gently grabbing your hands, only for you to slip them out of his grasp, which caused him to pout.

You gave him a serious look, studying his face, before you shook your head and scoffed underneath your breath. "… Do you need time to prepare? I'll give you twenty minutes –"

"No love," he smirked before his smile began to fall. "… Are **you** ready?"

"No," you stated bluntly, so bluntly that Vincent gave you a slightly shocked look, but you continued, "but that doesn't matter… You may have skills, but I need to tell you the rules," you began, stepping closer to him as you began to play around with his sash, wondering if you should make him take it off or not. "You can come with me, but you need to stay hidden. Keep your distance. I will handle them. They need to know I'm going alone, or else they'll flee," you began, pausing for a moment before you continued. "And… you need to trust me.

"Even if I'm getting beaten up, scratched, bruised, whatever. Even stabbed. You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to help me."

"But –"

"Shut up. Listen," you bluntly spoke, before you continued sternly, taking a step backward to glare up at him. "Until I call for you, do not reveal yourself. I'm serious, Undertaker. Trust me. I know how to handle myself… Think of this as a test," you finished with a smirk, before you turned your attention to Vincent, "and, don't mess up our house."

"I'll try," he smirked, but then you continued.

"And… Tanaka-sensei, please, I beg you, don't hate me too much over seeing this," you decided to say, gesturing to your outfit, but the man simply shook his head.

"We all make choices, young one. Besides, as long as you're on my lord's side, I will not see you as a threat," he stated, and you nodded your head before you slowly turned your attention to Undertaker, and then gently pushed past him.

"'Kay. Let's do this."

"Yes love," Undertaker responded, causing you to glance behind him curiously at his calm tone of voice, before you turned your attention to the stairs, and began to descend toward, towards the cemetery.


	36. London Murders Arc: The Grim Phantom 1

**A/N: I will say this, if you guys don't like blood and gore, creepiness and murder, these next… 1-2 chapters won't be for you.**

**These demonic names I made up were, well, made up. Using a quick google search for 'fantasy names', as well as twisting already known names of demons, and such. You can tell which demons are more demonic/powerful/overworldly by how strange their name actually is. **

**So… yeah…**

**The next chapter will be the gross/gory one. Just a warning, before the warning I'll be giving next chapter. Also, I probably won't be posting that chapter tonight. Maybe… tomorrow? Later in the week? I'd like to work on writing more of this story, first. That's my plan, tonight, after I post this particular chapter. **

**Anyways, if you guys have any questions, don't be afraid to ASK! **

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts, standing in the cemetery as you stared thoughtfully at, well, the world around you, occasionally tugging at your gloves before you slowly took out your ring. Cleaned up, shining almost like new. Always sparkling in such an eerie way.

It wanted you to put it on… but not yet. Not now. Not until… you know.

That you really, really want to do this.

Yes… you long for that reaper half of yourself. Now that you know it's there. Always, you want to be that deadly beauty that stalks the night, like a spook, specter, phantom, ending the lives of so many entities… but, now, you hesitate. You hesitate because… what if this is all one big mistake?

Again?

It was survival. That's why you did it. Coming into contact with Claudia, seeing the dead, feeling your overworldly powers surging through you, boosting your frail body… You… miss it, but…

You thought that… maybe… you could live a human life…

But then again, you've found this life to be rather boring. Mundane. Sure, it's enjoyable, in its own way, but…

It's not the same. It's just not the same.

You miss the action. The adventure. The thrill of the chase. Fighting in a war, destroying whatever came in your path. Doing things you never thought you could do. Being someone you never thought you could be.

Your soul misses the action. Your heart… wants to stay. Human.

And if you lose your humanity… then what?

That's your biggest fear. Everything Undertaker told you about the council's plans. Why you were born. What you were born to do. To be. You thought that you could just live this life then be done, but now… if you die… and not kill yourself… and die an honorable death on the battlefield… what if you **do** become Death? What if you come back?

Your soul doesn't want to life, anymore. You don't want to keep doing this, anymore.

Coming back from the dead. Being reborn. Living another life, again and again. You're tired. You truly are. And Claudia confirmed that for you. Every past life you've ever had has confirmed that.

It's time to die. It's time to rest, eternally. Just… be at peace. Not in a war.

But as your hands shook, your ring close to slipping out of your fingers, you felt hands gently grasp your own, as a body leaned against your backside and you felt a deep, warm breath against your ear. "Love. Are you alright?"

"… No. Far from it," you spoke, honestly, your eyes gazing down at the ring as you frowned. "… What if this is a mistake? I-I just… I'm scared. I'm not sure if I want to be a deadly efficient shinigami. I-I don't know if I should do this," you sighed, only to feel a hand upon your heart, and your head glanced upward as you saw that Undertaker's eyes were closed, while he sighed tiredly.

"Do what you think is best, Clara. I will support you… no matter what you choose," he told you, opening his eyes to gaze down at you and smile in such a manner that caused you to blush.

What is this feeling? Love? Really?

You cannot help but question your own feelings. This just feels… too easy.

If you lose him… God… if you lose him you don't know what you'll do.

"Thank you," you mumbled, suddenly grabbing his face and kissing his cheek, stunning the man for a moment, but you took a step away, your gaze falling back upon your ring, as you closed your eyes.

And concentrated.

You could feel… the dark, evil, raw energy emitting from your ring… and the bright, shining glow of your own soul, deep inside of your chest. You concentrated… on… becoming whole.

Whole… complete… absolutely you. Both death and life, together in unity… That… is what you are…

A perfect combination of the two. Good and evil. Light and dark.

Yin and Yang.

You breathed, before… you slowly slipped the ring onto your right ring finger, and then… you opened your eyes and let out a surprised gasp.

_The world turned bright, your eyes glancing around, to find a familiar face. A familiar figure standing before you, smiling sadly at your current state._

"_Clara… you didn't have to do this."_

"_I need to, Claudia. This… I cannot let more innocent people die because a bunch of idiots think they can play God," you scoffed, but you flinched as you felt the ghostly woman's face upon your cheek, so cold, so chilling… but so familiar. "… Is this wrong? W-what I'm doing?"_

"_Not wrong. Simply… I wish there was another way, but there is not. We have unfinished business to attend to," she sighed, her figure slipping away, her chilling presence disappearing from your sights, but…_

You could feel her, again. She was there.

They are all there.

Every life, every death. Every Phantomhive… everyone before that name. Every life you've lived, and…

You couldn't help but begin to tear up, your arm going up to your face as you began to cry. They're all screaming, no. No! Life has been so hard. You are supposed to die, but now…

Again, you're stuck in the loop. The loop of reliving another life.

A mistake.

It's always a mistake.

A curse.

A curse to continue to live on, like this.

Just what… did your soul do in order to get trapped, like this? To live for eternity, like this? To never die… to never pass on… It's the same, every day. Day by day by day. Time never stops. Why won't Time stop this torment?

But then…

You breathed, softly, clearing your mind. Your anger, frustration… sadness, and betrayal. You breathed, cleansing yourself of your bad thoughts. Your pain, your suffering… It's there, but no longer driving your thoughts. Instead…

There was one goal.

And that was Death.

"… Okay. Undertaker. Let's go," you spoke, your suddenly calm, slightly cold composure surprising the man, but you gave him a light smile before you grasped your scarf, placing the front up upon your nose before you began to step forward.

And step… into the shadows… and disappear… into the darkness of the night.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"I'm surprised you managed to follow me," you stated bluntly, while Undertaker turned to you and gave you a devious smirk.

"_Of course~_, love. What sort of death would I be, if I _couldn't keep track~ of Death itself?_"

"Hmm… anyways," you continued, ignoring his words as you calmly made your way into a particular building, noticing the recently dead on the ground, and making sure the reaper had done its business and has already left, "looks like a mass suicide."

"Maybe you could have prevented it? –"

"No. I know how the death book works. These humans would have died, regardless of my involvement," you told him, but you walked into the satanic looking circle, glancing at the white marble stone slab for any clues.

Until you felt a familiar tingling sensation in the back of your head, and you turned in the direction to notice something written on the walls.

Written in blood.

You scowled, walking up to the wall to get a closer look, with Undertaker walking behind you. Staying… strangely close to you. Maybe too close.

"… I'm killing them. Screw this crap," you scoffed in disgust, only to hear Undertaker snickering behind you.

"What? _No mercy~?_ –"

"Why should I give any sort of mercy to a bunch of idiots?" you huffed, before you sighed, tiredly, and began to sniff at the air. You noticed Undertaker was giving you a confused, even a weird look, but you ignored him as you paused, narrowing your eyes as you began to walk outside, through a side door. And then… you were off.

You ran, ran, and ran as fast as you could through the woods. You ignored the fact that Undertaker was trailing you, and instead took care to pursue these… devils. Demons. Whatever they are. You could sense them… but they were there, not too far off.

Waiting.

Expecting you.

You stopped, putting up a hand to stop Undertaker as well, and you cast him a narrowed look, hoping he got the message. Noticing the man gave you a nod, you slowly crept through the brush towards the demons… until you stepped into a field, in the middle of nowhere.

Upon the ground, a satanic circular symbol was written in the ground, with blood. The blood of humans, to be exact, and standing within the large circle were seven demons. And…

One boy, tied to a white marble slab, beaten and bruised, cut and defiled, and you couldn't stop the low irritated growl that left your breath, signaling your presence to the group. But… no one turned to notice you, except the wide eyed boy, though you weren't quite sure if he was human or not, and one of the cloaked beings as he lurked closer, a wicked smile adorning his face. "Ah. _So good~ of you to join us, __**Phantomhive~~**_"

"It's Phantom to you, Teegan," you scoffed in disgust, unsheathing your tanto blade and bringing the weapon to your side. "What is this? Did you kill all those humans just to lure me out?"

"_**Perhaps~~**_" the figure smirked, drawing closer to you, but stopping just an arm's length away. Knowing that you could viciously attack him at any moment. "But no. No, I wanted your little ring of yours," he continued, before he smirked savagely, "_and~_… that delightful, delectable soul of yours –"

"Your master is dead. Give it up –"

"Lord Baalza is alive and well! It is **you** who are blind!" Teegan began to laugh heartedly, and you sneered as the other six demons began to laugh. Taunt you, but you easily pushed away your anger, to be replaced with a steady calmness and sternness that caused the figure before you to snort in disgust. "Do you not understand? The war is still upon us! It is you mortals who do not see it –"

"I get the gist of it," you stated bluntly, causing the demons around you to stop, if only for a moment, and the silence became rather… eerie and unnerving. Even if you're a half breed, being part human has its setbacks, at times. But, that hasn't stopped you before, and you won't be afraid to keep confronting these sorts of assholes. "There are creatures that live outside of Time. In fact, the pure, uncorrupted, chaotic entities of our universe live outside of it. Meaning… Time has changed, but something else has not."

"_See~_, that is what I like about you, **human**," the demon smirked, deviously, while you tried not to snort in disgust at his voice, while seemingly soothing, was laced with the worse case of salt and bile you could ever endure. Enough to make you want to wash out your mouth, when this is over. "Why your soul is so… _pure~~_ –"

"It is not! –"

"_Ahhh~_, but it is. Deny it all you like, but such a… delicious morsel," he continued, stepping closer to you to the point that you could easily cut into him with your blade, and in fact you began to do just that, holding up your knife and staring into his dark red eyes as he began to slice his chest into your blade, as if it meant nothing to him. You watched as his dark blood began to drip out of his body, while he grinned like a predatory wolf, and you couldn't stop the disgusted shudder that left your breath at the sight. "_So strong~_… so, **resilient**. Mindful _of everything~_… is the most blind."

"Says a demon," you scoffed, and he shrugged his shoulders in response.

"I could eat you, you know," he continued, and you instinctively flinched as you felt his fingers upon your cheek, brushing away your bangs to see into both of your eyes. Your glowing bright blue/light silver eyes, glaring back at him as he grinned deviously, "_**but~**_… where's the fun in that, hmm?

"Besides, our master wishes to eat you, himself –"

"You can tell him to suck on a lemon. Hell, go to Tartarus, and stay there, you bastards!" you scoffed, but you could tell your threats didn't do a damn thing as the demon continued to smirk at you.

But… that's the thing.

These are just demons…

And now, you know the fallen one behind all of this, and all you could do is grumble irritably underneath your breath. Seriously, you thought you killed that bastard. Does that mean every single entity you ever killed is back from the grave?

Great. Just great.

But that could also mean…

… You're going to have to ask Undertaker a few things, and you wonder if he'll even have the answers for you –

"S-stop! Please!" a voice shrieked, enough to snap you out of your thoughts, and you tried not to scowl over the fact that, a, you zoned out, again, and the damn demon noticed, and b, the poor boy is being tortured in front of you.

And this bastard knows why this is irritating you.

"_My, my~_. She's just _**so wrathful~~**_. Perhaps we should capture her and keep her for ourselves –"

"No. You heard our master. And if we do that, we'll be eaten –"

"Baalza is a glutton. It can share," the demons continued to speak, while they cut into the boy's flesh with a knife and his blood dripped into a cup.

Any normal person would shudder at the sight, run away, and pray that they wouldn't be eaten too…

But you're not that type of human.

Especially since… this isn't the first time you've seen this sort of thing happening.

"Enough. There are eyes spying on us," Teegan spoke out, causing the other six to silence, but the one draining the poor boy, becoming too weak to cry out in pain, began to sip on the blood filled cup, casually.

You only have a few more minutes until this boy drops dead. Knowing these sorts of demons, they won't stop **until** he's dead. You don't have time for this, anymore.

"To keep this… mortal, we must trap her, _with us~_" he smirked, grabbing the blood filled cup and pouring it onto the satanic circle, chanting in a language that hurt your ears, but you ignored it.

And instead, you saw Undertaker running up to the circle, yelling your name, his hand out in an attempt to grab you and pull you out, but instead you smiled. "I'll be out in a moment," you spoke with a content smile, watching in annoyance as the barrier fully came up, trapping you inside, but… there was also someone else that was trapped in this circle with you.

Eight, to be exact.

"Shouldn't have done that, Teegan," you decided to say, hearing the demon scoff as he handed the cup to the others, grabbing your reaper blade and tugging it out of his chest as if it was a mere splinter in his finger.

"Why? You're _**human~**_ –"

"See," you scoffed, calmly turning away from the barrier to face them, your eyes dark and unyielding, yet an amused look was upon your face, "you lure me here, with my family ring, yet you don't assume I _cannot use it~?_

"Did you honestly think time travel could stop me from _being a __**phantom~~**__?_" you finished, with a smirk, watching as Teegan's eyes widened, and another demon had the hindsight to run at the barrier in an attempt to free itself, but your smirk only widened at the laughter you could hear from the others.

Which is fine, because they won't be alive for too much longer.

And you held out your left hand, your right hand next to your side, as you closed your eyes and began to concentrate…

And began to hear…

The laughter quickly turning into sheer panic.


	37. London Murders Arc: The Grim Phantom 2

_**WARNING:: contains gore, of course, and needles. And blood. If you're extra queasy over needles and blood, read the second half of this chapter with caution. You certainly don't need to read the second part of this chapter, if needles and blood make you very queasy. It's not necessary to understanding the rest of the story.**_

**! #$%^&*()**

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Long time no see, again!**

**Sorry for the very late update. I've been kind of slacking in the update department. I apologize. But, there's a lot that's been going on in my life, and I know if I posted this chapter then I'd have to post the chapters, after this one. **

**While I usually don't put warnings, there is a lot of mention of needles and such. I understand if you guys are sensitive to that sort of language, and the gore? Yeah, last chapter there was a bit of that, but this is when it gets VERY bloody. I will say, I do like writing this sort of stuff. It is a nice stress reliever. Usually, if I start typing a story, the beginning goes a bit like this… a bit too real, but I don't know. I know I've promised lemons, but in order to progress the story I need to push this plot along. This is the starting point.**

**And it's your guys' guesses what is really going on. Why this is all happening. I do need conflict, but considering how I started this story, there is a LOT of angles to work with.**

**I will say I was going to post this sooner, but life got in the way. And, I've been trying to push myself to write more of the chapters… I've actually reached past chapter 50, now. Geeze… this story is going to be a long one. I'm always so slow when I'm writing, but I like to write the details, you know? Anyways, if you guys don't mind the gruesome reality of Kuroshitsuji, then hopefully this particular set of chapters won't be too terrible. **

**Okay! That's it! Maybe I'll post the next chapter today… tonight, but I hope to post it soon. Since I'm FINALLY having a bit of a break. ENJOY!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

The moment I saw the barrier go up.

I couldn't stop myself from panicking. From screaming Clara's name.

I couldn't. I can't! I can't lose another one, like this!

Even if the girl told me to stay hidden, it didn't matter once my cover was blown and those demons noticed I was in the shadows, lurking. But, when a demon barrier such as this goes up, it's hard to break it.

But I had to try.

It didn't matter if the girl wasn't hesitating. Not afraid. That may be admirable, but I've seen too many die to the hands of demons. So, I took out my hidden death scythe, aiming all of my energy at the barrier, and I swung.

I took a step back when my scythe flew backward, almost bringing me with it, but I stood my ground and struck, again.

Nothing.

"W-what?!" I snarled in irritation. Am I really this weak to destroy a barrier? Or, was this a barrier I wasn't familiar with?

But it didn't matter! Because I need to save her! –

A shriek filled cry brought me out of my thoughts as I brushed some of my hairs from my face in an attempt to see what the commotion was all about. My eyes widened and I rubbed at my face, making sure I was seeing this correctly.

An eerie glow of bright blue slashed through the air, slamming the demons into the barrier and cutting them into half, then pieces… very small, very bloody pieces of flesh, their souls continuing to cry out in pain as they were hacked away by the powers of Death. Yet… I was surprised to watch their demonic records disappearing, becoming cut up into small, thin pieces, disappearing into the bright, pure glow of…

I could call it a reaper aura, but even I'm not quite sure if it's deadly in origin, or not. Either way, I watched the glow within the barrier die down, leaving only the girl… and the boy… and nothing else left, except blood and guts all over the ground.

Then, I hit my blade against the barrier, the demonic presence gone and the barrier breaking down without a second thought. "Clara!" I couldn't stop myself from gasping, running at her and grabbing her in a tight hug.

And she scoffed in response.

But, I didn't care. I didn't care… I just… I'm so happy she's not dead.

Or worse.

"U-undertaker… don't cry. I'm fine," I heard her say, her voice rather hesitant to speak to me, her hand patting me in an attempt to get me to let her go, but…

I won't. I can't.

I won't let this girl go.

"… Undertaker, enough. We have more pressing matters to attend to," she continued with a huff, pushing me off of her while I gave her a meek smile, only to take in the sight around me.

There was so much blood on the ground that the symbol upon the muddy earth was nothing but large bloody puddles. The souls of the damned had been freed from their bounds to those demons… and the poor human boy looked like he was close to death.

But not quite there, yet.

And apparently, that was enough to stir my love into taking action, quickly unbinding the boy's chains with two swipes of her blade, and I couldn't stop myself from staring. In pure awe.

Her dark blue and black attire, coated in dark red, fresh demonic blood, dripping from parts of her outfit, except her long black scarf. It was purely immaculate, untouched, unblemished, and her ring… glowing so brightly that it was both… disgusting, yet strangely overwhelming.

But it was the long death scythe in her hands that not only bewildered me, but also caused me to stare. A long black onyx scythe, a stark contract to my ivory silver blade, but… the shape was relatively normal and simple compared to my own. Perhaps she **is** an underdeveloped grim reaper?... Well, of course she is. She's only twenty years of age, but the handle was long, thin, and barely bent. Only warped in certain parts for an easy grip. Her blade was long and sharp… like a typical looking scythe in a farmer's field, except it was all black.

Entirely black…

But there was a strange energy emitting out of the scythe, both a good and bad energy. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Is this… what her soul is… now? Purely corrupted? Both pure, yet chaotic at the same time?

That… isn't good… She's too close to Death for my liking. That's for sure.

"Undertaker. A little help, please," she scoffed, and after the initial shock left me I gave her a light smile, letting my own blade disappear out of my hands, after I realized I had my scythe in my grip for far too long, before I gently picked up the, now, unconscious boy… to flinch as the girl brought the boy closer to her.

I was mystified as a bright blue, cleanly pure, glow began to emit itself from her ungloved hand, her scythe disappeared out of her own fingertips, and she placed her glowing hand upon the boy, her eyes narrowed and calculating, and glowing in a similar fashion to the glow that was in her palm. "… He's not dead yet, but we need to help him."

"Must we?" I decided to ask, wondering how this girl would respond.

And I smirked lightly at the scoff she gave me, as a response. "Of course. **You** may not be allowed to stop the dead from dying, but I can. Please, let's get back home. I got the information I needed, anyways."

"And what'd that be?" I asked in a curious tone, but she simply glared at me, as if to tell me this wasn't the time to be chatting.

And while I knew she was right… I couldn't help but feel confused to how I know what this girl is thinking, most of the time…

Maybe our souls are more intertwined then I thought.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing… or not.

"Let's go, love," I spoke with a smile, and her a weary nod and a tired look on her face, and I sighed to myself.

Ah, yes. She isn't centuries old, but a frail little girl… it's hard to remember that, when I can see her cutting down seemingly powerful demons with a single swipe of her blade.

What… _a lovely~ death scythe_…

But… too bad it's a scythe.

If she was connected to something else, I would be a lot more relieved, but now… just… why? Why did this girl let herself become this way?

She should have stayed human. It would have been simple for her, that way.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Move," you practically yelled, and apparently your words were enough to cause the two men to move out of your way, staring at the two, or rather, three of you, as you managed to get up the stairs, and you ushered Undertaker into your room. "Just put him on the bed. Tanaka, get me a bucket of ice. Undertaker, a glass of water and the first aid kit. Vincent, sit your ass down," you scoffed, trudging past them without a moment's notice, quickly making your way down the stairs into the basement. You needed a few things before you could resume. After all, if you faint or render yourself unmoving, how can you save the poor boy in such a manner?

The humans are clueless, and Undertaker could complicate matters.

You sighed to yourself. You've done this many times before, but… usually you don't have to play the part of doctor, too. This is going to be aggravating.

You hate demons.

You found a fairly long, thin tube used for draining fluids, and a few needles, varying in sizes, and you shoved them into a basket by one of the shelves, along with a numbing goop that, apparently, Undertaker concocted. Surely, this may come in handy if you need to numb the pain in a particular spot, for whatever reason. You made sure the tube was clean, at least, or at the very least didn't hold any chemicals that could kill you. Just… blood. Blood tubes. You didn't have time to put too much thought into this as you grabbed a small metal container, enough to fill, at the very least, eight ounces, and then you rushed up the stairs.

You ignored Vincent, putting a hand up to his face when he tried to yell something at you, and instead you rushed into your bedroom, grabbing the cup of water Undertaker grabbed for you, and he stared at you confused as you gulped it down and began to assess your patient.

"We need to strip him. Undertaker, do you have anything this boy can wear for some modesty?" you asked, and he simply nodded his head, letting you be as he left your bedroom and you knelt beside the boy, grabbing a chair so you could be closer. "… I'm sorry," you sighed, putting a hand upon the boy's head to make sure he was still breathing, that he wasn't running a fever. That he wasn't too far gone and this wasn't worth the effort.

But… as you felt that he could just survive this, if you just hurry…

You began to prepare yourself. You thanked Tanaka for the bucket, placing the bucket down by your feet as you put the metal container into the ice, making sure most of the container was surrounded by ice, as you continued. You didn't care if someone was watching, or if everyone was watching. Honestly, you didn't have time to care. Instead, you worked quickly as you opened the first aid kit, finding a long rubber band-like item, ripping off your sleeve in an easy motion as you tightly bound the rubber upon your arm, and then stuck a needle into the tub, thin enough to do the job… you hope.

You body shook. You hated needles. Absolutely hated them, but… if this boy is going to survive… he needs blood, now.

And you've read enough about blood transfusions to know that this could work. Could, is key.

Last minute, you grabbed your ripped sleeve, biting down on it so you wouldn't bite your tongue, as you gently stabbed the needle into your arm, hoping to strike a vein, and after wiggling the needle just enough and flinching instinctively, you saw the red liquid slipping out of the tube, and you quickly made sure the end of the tube was in the metal container before you let go, letting out a shaky sigh. "O-oow," you shuddered, unable to stop the words from leaving your breath, but you threw the sleeve away once it left your mouth, so it wouldn't fall into the ice bucket, and you grabbed another rubber band, carefully tying the item around your arm to keep the needle in place, until you felt hands tying it for you. "… Arigatō."

"Dōitashimashite," he responded, but before he could continue you let out a slight huff.

"_**If you don't mind the sight of blood, make sure the tube is collecting my blood. If you can't, make sure Vincent isn't getting hysterical, or at the very least help Undertaker. O-oh, and get me something sugary,"**_ you told him, and he left without a second thought, while you turned back to the boy and noticed his paling face.

You closed your eyes and sighed, tiredly, before you put your hands together, careful about the tube and needle in your arm, and concentrated. Concentrated on your aura… your energy. Your soul and heart. Connecting them… one in the same… Becoming one… and the same…

Slowly, you let your eyes open, and as you noticed that your palms were beginning to glow a bright blue, you slowly placed your hands upon the boy's body, one upon his chest and the other over his stomach. You saw the boy shuddering, but he made no attempts to move away from you.

Good.

You closed your eyes again, assessing the situation. Any damaged organs, fatal injuries… he… needed to be patched up, but you hoped Undertaker will be back by then to help you with that. You can't exactly be very helpful when you're draining your blood, like this.

And noticing his presence right behind you, along with the other two humans, you spoke, "Undertaker… just… trust me," you began, letting your eyes open as you concentrated on keeping the boy stable, at least. At the very least, keeping his soul in his body while you continued to heal him, from the inside out. "Give this boy first aid. I need you to patch him up… I know that isn't something a mortician does, but please… I can't exactly be very helpful, right now," you stated, but you honestly surprised when Undertaker moved into the room, no questions asked, as he fished through the first aid kit, careful not to bump into you and break your concentration, as he moved to take the boy out of his clothes. His ripped up and dirty shirt, first. He grumbled a bit underneath his breath, assessing the situation, before he began to put ointment on the boy's cuts, wrapping them with white bandages.

"… Why are you doing this?" he sighed, his question causing you to open your eyes and look over at him, again, and as you saw him moping from the other side of the bed, you simply gave him a light smile before you closed your eyes.

"… How much blood has drained out of me?" you asked whoever was looking, and you were surprised to hear Vincent's voice by your side, suddenly.

"Four ounces? –"

"T-tell me when it's… six? I suppose," you mumbled, feeling your mind beginning to get woozy, and you quickly spoke, "I mean… just five."

"Yes," he told you, though you could tell he seemed hesitant, but as you put a hand over the boy's ribs, you couldn't help but outwardly frown. "… What?"

"He has a broken rib… I'm going to have to set this in place… but at least his lungs aren't punctured. I think his organs are fine, for the most part. Good," you mumbled, keeping with the conversation just so you wouldn't lose consciousness. You need to stay alert until this is over.

"H-how can you do this? –"

"Simple. Vincent… When you're fighting in a war, you tend to pick up on things… Blood transfusions can save a life, though," you chuckled lowly to yourself, opening your eyes to turn to him and give the man a slight pout, "it's funny. I can save lives, but no one can save me."

"What? Why? Is this really a thing? Blood transfusion, as you call it? Isn't that only fiction –"

"Yes, though, the reason why it may not work is… a person's blood type. I'm type O… That probably doesn't mean much, but… that means my blood can work for anyone. But, there are not that many out there with O blood… simple as that," you finished in a mumble, turning away to close your eyes.

Until you heard Vincent say, "I-it's at five."

Slowly, you opened your eyes and sighed to yourself. Great… How are you going to do this?

You let out a slight scoff, pressing your hands into the boy's chest and mumbling a set of phrases that, while seemingly was gibberish, was a spell for healing. Once you noticed the boy's body was glowing light blue, you slowly took your hands off of his body, making sure his body wouldn't go into shock.

Once your hands were freed, you quickly reached for the rubber band around your arm, unbinding the one around the needle and carefully slipping it out of your body. "Shit!" you coughed at the needle, and the fact that you could feel the pain, now, but the pain turned into a dull numbness, and you quickly put a white pad upon the small hole in your joint, hopefully enough to stop the blood from draining out of your body as you brought the metal container out of the ice bucket, slowly, and set it up on the table.

You stood up, but your body felt instantly woozy, so you grabbed the table and the chair, breathing heavily to keep yourself from toppling over, but you scoffed underneath your breath, reaching for a cookie you could see on the table and quickly munched upon it before you reached for the basket full of needles. You grabbed a fairly small one, one that you hope will be small enough to fit into the boy, but big enough to stick into the tube, properly. If there's air, he could die. You didn't want that to happen.

Not after all of this.

You made sure the needle was in properly, kicking the bucket slightly as you leaned the tub downward, making sure the blood was flowing freely into the bucket, without any air bubbles, and then you gently grabbed the boy's arm. He was so pale… so lifeless, but you know that there's life still in him. You just have to give him yours.

Just a little taste.

You kept the blood from leaving the needle and tub by pinching down, and you instructed Tanaka to bind a rubber band upon the boy's upper arm, in a particular spot. And then, carefully, you poked the needle into the boy's arm.

You wanted to cry over the fact that the boy didn't seem to notice. That he was so numb to the pain, so out of it, that he couldn't tell that you were stabbing him with a needle that was probably too big for his little body. But, that didn't matter right now, and you accepted the rubber band Tanaka handed you as you tied the band around the needle and the boy's arm, before you slowly sat down onto the chair and breathed, heavily.

Tiredly.

You paused for a moment to gather your thoughts, and luckily no one seemed to be doing anything to interrupt you, and then you slowly stood to your feet, grabbing the numbing ointment from the basket, and you glopped some of the goop onto your hand. You could already feel the effects on your fingers, which makes you wonder if you should ask Undertaker for the recipe, but instead you kept silent as you concentrated on your task, gently rubbing it on top of the very purple and bluish/black bruise on the boy's chest, over the broken rib. "… Grab him, Undertaker. Vincent, make sure the boy doesn't rip the needle out of his body. I cannot take draining anymore blood out of me," you stated, simply, waiting for the two to get into position around the boy's body. You leaned over the boy, hovering over him as you closed your eyes, feeling your hands glowing, again, and you looked to the two men, making sure they were ready.

And then…

You applied pressure into his chest, and used your energy to press up his broken rib, from the inside of his body radiating outward.

He screamed, raw, unbound crying, but your eyes were on his rib, making sure the bone was properly in place, before your bright blue eyes began to die down, just slightly, and your energy became a lot more soothing and calming. All at once, his crying turned to soft gasping, while his eyes closed, as if he had fallen back to sleep, from waking from a terrible nightmare.

You looked to his arm to make sure the needle was still in place, the blood was flowing properly through the tub into the boy's body, and then you sighed, closing your eyes in relief.

"Ā, tasukatta," you sighed in relief… only to feel your body swaying, and you felt arms grab you in an instant.

"Enough scaring me for one night, love," you heard Undertaker's voice, and you could barely keep your eyes open.

Instead, you closed your eyelids, sighing tiredly to yourself as you gripped at the man's clothes, though your grip was rather weak and your body close to crumbling into the floor. "Kono shōnen ga shibō shita ba-aai… watashi wa anata o yurushi-ite inaidesu," you managed to mumble before you lost your will to stay conscious. But…

You could feel a presence by your side… a comforting presence that brought a smile to your face, and that was enough to keep you from slipping into the nothingness.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

Ā, tasukatta [Japanese] – thank god

Kono shōnen ga shibō shita baai, watashi wa anata o yurushite inaidesu [Japanese] – if this boy dies, I am not forgiving you


	38. London Murders Arc: The Return 3

Slowly your eyelids began to open… only to shut them and groan tiredly to yourself.

Geeze… why do you feel so drained!?... Until you remembered what happened… with those blasted demons and the poor human boy…

Ah, right. The boy.

Your eyelids blinked as you slowly began to look around the room, realizing… this isn't your bedroom. Undertaker's?

Speaking of the reaper, you could hear the door opening and your head weakly moved to the side to notice a darkened figure walking in, only to step a tad quicker into the room the moment he saw your eyes staring right at him. "Clara! Thank goodness you have awoken."

"Of course… why wouldn't I?" you scoffed in annoyance, and as you heard the man sigh in slight relief you scoffed, once more. "What?... Can you tell me what happened?"

"_You mean you don't remember~?_" he teased you, but you simply huffed in response.

"I remember. The demons, the boy. I want to know… the boy. How long have I been out?" you asked in a slightly hesitant tone, and he gave you a relieved smile before he calmly walked over to your bedside, grabbing a nearby chair and calmly sitting down upon it.

"Five days."

"… Five? Only five?... Good, I suppose," you mumbled, grumbling as you suddenly felt his hand upon your head, rustling up your hair while you cast him a slightly irritated look. "… The boy?"

"Breathing. He woke up four days ago, but he hasn't left your bed, yet. Too weak. As for the investigation," Undertaker continued, probably knowing that you were going to ask, "I told the dear earl where he could find the bodies, and to return in a few days to talk to you, if you needed to tell him anything else.

"Is there anything else the boy needs to know?" Undertaker asked, and you could tell he was both curious and concerned, but all you could do is sigh tiredly, slowly curling up into the warm covers and burying the side of your face into the warm, strangely fluffy pillow.

"Hmm… Not him. We found the culprits. I got rid of them… However, there is something I'd like to tell you, pertaining to all of this," you decided to say, managing to worm one of your arms free from your side, and you reached out your hand, feeling the man's hand placed upon your own, and you slowly grasped the man's hand, staring at his long black nails with a concerned look on your face. "… Apparently… whatever happened, in the future… Time reversed itself, meaning many creatures know that the end of days is upon us… and, irritatingly, a bunch of assholes I've killed over the years are now back from the grave.

"I don't know if I should be glad that they fear me enough to not bother me, or irritated that they just couldn't stay dead," you scoffed in disgust, but upon hearing Undertaker's slight giggling you couldn't stop yourself from sighing, tiredly. "… Did you know that, Undertaker?"

"Reapers do not get to experience such a thing. I'm assuming what happened was several strong entities recall what had happened… and perhaps the reaper council also recalls what they've done," he scoffed in disgust, but you pulled him back to you as you gripped his hand, just a tad tighter this time, and brought your hand closer into the warm sheets.

"I know… about a death bookmark. Something higher ups can use, if necessary, but nothing can erase existence… so, I-I don't really know what happened, honestly," you decided to say, hearing the man sigh deeply to himself, and his unenthusiastic nature caused you to turn to look up at him, but you only managed to notice his chest before you gave up, not bothering to roll in the bed to change your comfortable position. "… Undertaker?"

"Yes?"

"… Lord Baalza, one of the seven rulers of hell, is to blame, for this," you decided to say, and you gripped his hand tightly while you let out an irritable scoff. "God, damn it. I killed that bastard. Why can't devils just stay dead?"

"You took down a ruler of the underworld?" you heard Undertaker ask in a curious tone, but you simply scoffed in response.

"Of course. _I'm a __**Phantomhive~**_. Living in the underworld and getting rid of the disgusting dirt and grime of society is something I do." Upon hearing your response, you could hear Undertaker laughing at you, enough to almost let go of your hand, but instead he leaned over you, giggling outright at your words, and all you could do is sigh tiredly. "… You're giving me a bloody headache. Stop."

"Aiigh! Haihihihihi!... S-sorry," he snickered into his free hand, wiping stray tears while you groaned lowly. Too tired to argue with him.

"… I'm just so pissed. I really hated that one. He, it, whatever, is such a glutton… He's the damn devil responsible for my torment, actually," you told him, your hand gripping the man's tightly as you let out a shaky breath. "That boy… I-I couldn't leave him, like that."

"… It reminded you of your own troubles," you heard Undertaker say, and you meekly nodded your head. You could hear the man sigh to himself, but you decided to continue to talk.

If only for a few more moments. You just wanted his company, by your side, like this.

"Unlike the boy, I didn't have a savior… Those bastards like my blood because it's so rare… p-plus, the whole connection to the supernatural, already… You should have seen how angry I used to be," you snorted, your hand slipping out of his own as you turned in the bed, finally looking up at the man as you gave him a meek smirk. "I knew revenge meant nothing… but, hey, if I can do it then why not? I spent so much time training to take down, well, gods… It's strange… how easily they can fall," you decided to say, a thoughtful look crossing your face until you felt a hand upon your cheek. You glanced over at the man, flinching as his hand brushed some of your hairs from your face, and tickled the side of your eye, while you blinked in curiosity as the soft grin adoring his face. "… Undertaker? What are you thinking?"

"_Hmm~_… It's just… seeing you on that night… I don't know if I should be concerned… or angry… or simply sad," he told you, and slowly you began to sit up in the bed, only to regret your decision as you felt the world was spinning, and you put a hand upon your head to steady yourself. Outright groaning in pain. "Now, now, don't push yourself –"

"I'm fine… Something sugary and some water would be great, right now," you grumbled, and you barely noticed the man leaving your side, instantly leaving, before you could open up an eyelid to notice that his chair was vacant.

You sighed, deeply, closing your eyes tightly in an attempt to stop the world from spinning. But, after you resituated the pillows so they were placed right behind your back and head, you leaned into the wall, letting out a calm sigh, before you noticed Undertaker coming back into the room, with a tray of goodies in his hands. "Thank you," you smiled lightly, accepting the water and taking some careful sips, making sure you weren't gulping the water too quickly, before you accepted the cookies that, apparently, were made for you. "… Did you make these?"

"The boy and his butler helped me," Undertaker smirked, before his smile faded, just a tad. "According to the butler, it seemed to him that you needed sugar after giving your blood. So, the earl suggested on some sweets. Thus, we made cookies."

"Oh… could use some chocolate," you smirked at him, munching on the cookie in your hand rather greedily, and not exactly caring if it was tasty or not. Or the fact that it was almost as hard as a rock, but strangely, not burnt. No, what you wanted was the sugar, and you greedily ate through three cookies before pausing, thinking to yourself before you looked back at him. "So… what made you worried about me? D-do you not like the fact that I'm a reaper? I mean… that's half of what I am. I can't exactly change that," you decided to say, but he quickly shook his head.

"Oh, no. That's not it," he chuckled nervously, in such a tone that made you worried, and as he noticed your concerned face he smiled, patting the top of your head and rustling up your, still, matted and untamed black, slightly dark blue hair. "… Remember how I told you that I suspected the council wanted to turn you children into containers for Death?" he spoke, and while his phrasing was a bit odd, you gave him a slight nod of your head, taking another cookie from the tray, as he continued in a tone that you knew meant that he was being absolutely serious.

And concerned, as well.

"While seeing you take out those demons with such ease was amusing, even awe inspiring, the way you did it… easily cutting the creatures down until there was nothing left of them, **destroying** them. Did you know that was what you were doing? When you cut your records up, like that?" he asked, and you paused, half way through eating the cookie, to sigh at his questions.

"Yes, in fact. That was my intention. I was told that demons come back, when you cut them down. Destroy their bodies. When you destroy both the body and soul, you rid them, entirely… I know that's a horrible thing to do, in hindsight, but to get rid of a devil… an angel. The same sort of thing is necessary. Besides," you scoffed, "the souls of the damned are trapped within the demon until you destroy one. I've heard their shrieks, before. The human souls finally escaping from their binds to the hungry demon. At first, it was frightening, but now… happily satisfying," you stated, giving him a content smirk, only for your smile to wean at the unwavering line on his face. "… Undertaker? What? Did you not like that I said that?"

"No. In fact, I'm delighted you see things that way," he smirked, just slightly, but his smile faded away as quickly as it appeared. "… I shouldn't… have let you regain your powers, Clara –"

"What? Are you going say the same damn things everyone else has?" you scoffed in disgust, and you watched as he flinched slightly at your snappy tone of voice, but you didn't care. Well, you do care, but you didn't care to be kind about this. "I need to stay **human**? Look, I told you. If you cannot accept me as a reaper, as well as a human, then maybe we have a problem here –"

"No, please… don't start," he sighed, reaching for your hand and grasping it with his own two hands, and you watched with a curious gaze as he brought your hand up to your face, gripping your hand rather tightly as he gave three of your knuckles a soft, yet lingering kiss. You couldn't help but blush, slightly, at his action, which still felt rather odd, but you let the man be. "… I do not care, Clara. I care about you. **You**… What worries me," he continued, slowly opening his eyes to look past your hand and at your confused, tired looking face, "is… Death doesn't see things that way.

"I'm right to worry, you see. I could see… by the way you fought, the way you held your own. Even your chosen death scythe, being an actual scythe… and your methods. Your energy, while not quite reaper like, was still strong and powerful… With a little bit of grooming from Death itself, when you die as a human… you could end up becoming its vessel," he scoffed in disgust, his eyes lingering on your hand before his grip began to loosen, and he slowly began to lower your hand, placing it upon his lap while he kept your hand in place with his own hands. "That… isn't a life I want for you."

"Why? Does it matter? And how do you even know about such a thing? –"

"Trust me. I know, more then I wish to," he stated, simply, causing you to pause, but noticing your critical stare he smiled, lightly, gently placing your hand back by your side before he sighed to himself. "… Sorry. I understand if you wish to make your own choices, but if Death enters you, then you won't be able to do so. It will dictate everything you do, every movement, every word. You'll become a mere puppet… and by the time you come to your senses… everything you ever knew and love will be lost to you."

"U-undertaker," you couldn't help but say, unable to stop your mind from wandering to the worst possible conclusion. "… I-is that why you're called… Death?" you had to ask, looking at him with a worried, and even, frightened look on your face.

And all he could do is close his eyes and sigh, simply.

"Undertaker," you called, feeling tears slowly streaming down your face at the realization. You could tell your tears were confusing him as he opened his eyes to look at you, only to feel his own hand leaving his side, as you brought his hand to your forehead and began to sniffle. "I'm so, so, so sorry."

"Don't be. This isn't your fault –"

"I don't care if it is or isn't my fault… So, then… everything that I was born to do, up until now… was to groom me into becoming Death, huh?" you couldn't help say, and all you could hear is a tired sigh from the man. "… It's… like what I told Vincent," you decided to tell him, causing the man to look over at you as you continued meekly. "The apocalypse happens… because the four horsemen of the apocalypse arrive. Are you so hard of hearing to not realize I already knew that? About… personifying Death in such a way?

"I'm associated with Famine," you decided to say, slowly taking the man's hand from your face as you looked at him, looking to see if he were to change his reaction in any sort of way. "And David… Conquest. The first one. The other two… I-I don't know, but because David was born, the world turned to shit… The poor kid continues to think this was all his fault… when, in actuality, it's the damn council," you scoffed in disgust, but as you heard Undertaker sigh deeply to himself, you couldn't stop the pout that appeared on your face. "… What?"

"This brainwashing… I'm sick of it. I truly am," he huffed, but you gave him a light smile in response.

"H-hey. I mean, it's not like I thought that way, at first… So, is that all? You just hate the fact I'm so in tuned to my _deadly~ side_?" you decided to ask, causing the man to look you over, if only for a moment, before he smirked at your playfulness.

"_Absolutely not~_. In fact," he grinned, suddenly leaning in close to your face, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning away, blushing brightly at the predatory look upon his face, and the bright gleaming green glow from his deadly eyes, "I was _**entranced~**_ from _watching you destroy~~_ those disgusting, vile pests."

"O-oh," you couldn't stop yourself from saying in response, and you simply blushed more at the giggle that began to leave his breath, his hot breath tickling the side of your nose. "N-not funny!"

"Yes, funny," he giggled, only to stop completely as you leaned forward and suddenly kissed him, gently, upon the lips.

The two of you stayed that way, you feeling awkward for kissing the man, so suddenly, and he, surprised that you suddenly silenced him.

But… slowly, you leaned away, giving the man an unsure look before you turned your head, blushing madly from embarrassment. "Ah… I-I'm okay, Undertaker. Could you let me get back to sleep? I still have a terrible headache."

"Of course," he responded, leaving the plate of cookies while taking the tray with him, and the two of you left each other in silence.

More out of embarrassment, but whatever.

The moment he left into the hallway, you put your head in your hands, groaning lowly at what just happened. But… you don't exactly regret it.

It just… you were so happy he enjoyed your performance…

But then again…

You cannot help but suddenly feel curious. You barely got to see a glimpse of the man's weapon before it disappeared from his hands, but you could tell it was a scythe. A long, silver scythe… Just how strong is he? Seriously?

You couldn't stop your blush from creeping up your face, and you groaned, slumping into the bed in an attempt to get back to sleep.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Damn," you grumbled underneath your breath as you looked into the boy's mouth, making sure nothing else was damaged about his poor little face.

Honestly, you couldn't believe they had the balls to do this… but they did. The poor boy's tongue had been cut clean off, but at least it was mainly clean. Not too jagged, and it healed itself without too much extra work. Still… you couldn't help but be empathetic towards the boy. Who even does that? Cut out someone's tongue like that?... Unless this boy actually contracted himself to one of those said demons, had his tongue branded, and tried to cut it off to end the contract…

Now, if you think of it that way, it's plausible, but you decided to not look into this too much.

After all, you're not supposed to know about the supernatural, right? And your priority should be this little boy, right now.

"Well, looks to me that everything is healing nicely," you told him, letting the boy close his mouth as you reached for a glass filled with water, mixed with some crushed up herbs into a tasty tea, but it was your own special little concoction… just to help with the pain. "… Boy, I have a question," you decided to say, watching as he looked at you with his bright blue eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was picked just because of his eyes. "I haven't brought this topic up, yet, but… since you cannot speak," you spoke, watching as his eyes fell, but you continued, "let me ask, do you know how to write, at least? So we can communicate with you? Because our conversations, while _very~ lively_, have been one sided," you told him, and you watched as he gave you a meek nod, sighing to himself, and you smiled lightly. "Do you? Really?"

When he nodded his head again, you smiled in delight. "Great. I'll go get some paper and something to write with, and then I can ask you some questions, okay?" you asked, watching as he nodded his head, yet again, and then you left to gather a blank notepad, which you plan on handing to the boy, and a sharpened pencil.

But, before you went back into your bedroom, you noticed Undertaker was in the kitchen, causing you to pause. "… Hello?"

"Hello love," he smirked at you, before he turned back to his cooking. "Just making supper."

"Oh. Okay –"

"And the earl will be arriving in a few hours. We shouldn't be expecting anyone for a while," he told you, and you paused before you gave him a light smile.

"Okay. Thanks for the update," you stated, leaving the man to his task as you went back into your bedroom, items in hand. "Alright," you began, handing the boy the two items and watching as he stared at the items, as if they were his lifeline to the outside world, and you plopped yourself back onto the edge of the bed. "So… let's start. If you could, what is your name? Calling you 'boy' all the time isn't very fun," you chuckled lightly, watching as the boy gave you a slight nod before he began to write. He wrote slowly, but legibly, and you couldn't help but admire his cursive.

Compared to you, he's a damn expert! And how old is he? Probably only eight… or maybe nine years old. You watched as he scribbled a name upon the paper… which, kind of confused you, but you slowly sounded out the name. "Branden… O' Moore. Of Mourne? Is that right?" you asked, watching as the boy looked up to give you a nod, and then began to write some more. You saw the words 'Baron Carrig O' Moore' and 'Bridget O' Moore', and you gave the boy a curious look in return, watching as his scribbling came to a stop as he set the notepad on his lap and looked up at you, giving you his full attention. "Hmm… well, I'm not an expert on the aristocracy, but I know an earl that could be helpful," you told the boy, patting the top of his head and rustling up his soft dirty blonde hair, while you smiled lightly at him, "and we'll find your relatives. Okay?"

Once he gave you a nod, you chuckled lightly, before you slowly stood up and let out a tired sigh. "Well, you can have the notepad and the pencil. We'll have supper in a few more moments. I'm going to go help out Undertaker," you told the boy, leaving him in your room as you made your way down the hallway, with a thoughtful look on your face as you slumped down into one of the dining chairs and let out a tired sigh.

"Something on your mind, love?" you heard Undertaker ask, and you gave him a slight glance before you pouted to yourself and your eyes began to wander away, towards the gritty walls and brick work. A hum leaving your breath as you tapped your finger on top of the wooden table.

"Branden O'Moore, from a place called Mourne. His father is a baron, apparently," you spoke, noticing the man's head turning slightly at your words, until you let out a tired sigh. "… Undertaker?"

"Yes love?" you heard the man ask, and you pouted to yourself, your tapping stopping for a moment, only for you to sit up in the chair and let a huff leave your breath.

"Nothing. Never mind. It wasn't very important –"

"Come now. Now I _**need~**_ to know what you're thinking," he chuckled, now turning away from the meal he was cooking to watch you as you squirmed in your seat, feeling strangely uncomfortable, but mainly over the fact that you're going to have to tell him what you're thinking about.

"… Okay," you mumbled, slowly turning to acknowledge him as you continued, meekly. "What if… that boy's family abandons him because he lost his ability to speak? Could it be possible… if we keep him?" you decided to ask, watching as the man's gaze turned from curiosity to bewilderment, but you quickly shook your head and sighed to yourself. "Never mind. S-sorry. I-I doubt that'd happen. I'm sure his family is worried about the poor boy –"

"I wouldn't mind another little child running around the shop," he began, pausing for a moment before continuing in a thoughtful tone, "but why do you ask, love?"

"I-it's just… orphanages are terrible. At least, that's my experience," you decided to say, "and… I-I mean… it's been a while since I actually cared about a kid," you told him, glancing away from him as you stared at a rather morbid picture that was placed upon the wall, off to the side of the stairs that led up onto the top floor.

You couldn't help but pout at the silence that settled upon the two of you, and eventually the man sighed, deeply, making sure his food wasn't burning before he leaned against the counter and tilted his head to the side. "You are a strange human, my dear," you heard Undertaker say, causing you to turn to look at him, staring at him with a puzzled expression, as he continued somberly. "You put yourself in harm's way for the sake of others… It… confuses me, if I'm going to be honest. Don't you know how worried I was, that night? I thought I was going to lose you," he told you, watching your expression as you looked at him with uncertainty, but then he graced you with a content smile. "You're a sweet dearie. Much different to the Phantomhives I've encountered."

"Well… you have to find hope in something, I suppose. A will to keep going," you told him, but slowly you began to stand to your feet, wandering into the kitchen space to stand in front of him. "Or perhaps, you think I'm odd because you don't see how I'm a Phantomhive, huh," you stated, pausing before you sighed tiredly to yourself, closing your eyes before you began to glance away and stare at the long kitchen countertop. "… I think what's important here is that you can push yourself up and keep moving forward. If you can't even do that, then what's the point of continuing onward? This entire time… the thoughts of suicide have lingered in my mind, the moment my mother died. But, what keeps me going is the thought that, perhaps, if I save someone else… that's enough," you told him, giving him a meek smile before you began to walk away. "And don't think of me as helpless. I'm not. Trust me."

"And if I cannot trust you?" you heard him ask, and you slowly turned your head, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously as you continued.

"Well then… then I suppose that means I'm going to have to leave here. How can we have any sort of relationship if we cannot trust one another?" you told him, calmly leaving the kitchen and walking back into the hallway, back towards your room while you let a slightly tired look overcome the features of your face.

Honestly, you haven't recovered in the slightest. Reawakening your powers, using the dark aura of your ring to make your fight a bit easier, and using your own blood to reanimate the boy was still taking its toll on you. Too much stress, and you're sure you'll be bedridden, again… and you **don't** want to stay in bed for too long. Plus, you're sure that Undertaker will force you into bed if he noticed just how drained you really are. But…

There's still work to be done. At the very least, you need to explain the situation to Vincent, and then move on from there.

Do what, exactly?

… Even you're not sure. You're not sure if you should pursue these demons, perhaps attempt to take down that lord, again. Heck, you're not even sure if you've unlocked everything or not. You're going to have to start training, again. Retraining your mind and body, so you won't feel like fainting every single time you're in a small scrimmage. Regardless if Undertaker wants you to train or not, you're still going to do so.

Hmm… should you even bother asking him if there's a spot to train, in secret, in this human place… or maybe you should just find your own place?

Who… knows…

But if Undertaker can't trust you to keep yourself alive, then how can you trust him, anymore?

This is becoming a real mess. That's for sure.


	39. London Murders Arc: The Return 4

**A/N: HEY GUYS!**

**So, I was going to post this sooner, but I feel asleep and then had to work yesterday. But now, I'm ready to go! I'm not meeting up with a friend today cause she's on vacation, and I'm bored cause it's my day off… so I'm going to look over a chapter or two. **

**When it comes to my writing, I've kind of hit a wall. Writer's block can be a bitch to deal with! But, hopefully posting more of this story will reenergize me desire to write more. **

**The weather where I'm living has been rather gloomy, still… Yes, it rains, but it's been snowing, and honestly, I'm so done with the snow. I may love the snow, but I'm getting tired of it. At least we won't have to worry about a drought like last year! But, I've been rather bummed, lately. Another school shooting has happened in the state I live in. If you guys are Americans and live in Colorado, you know what I'm talking about… It… kind of sucks. I feel that people come to our state just to shoot up the place. Like, seriously. Columbine, and now the STEM school… We've had a lot of problems and these aren't just the only school shootings, here. **

**Anyways, that's where my mind is kind of at. Why I haven't posted anything in a while. Like most tragedies, I don't really know anyone involved, but it's been the talk of my state, as of late. I'm just tired. Emotionally drained. **

**But, I am going on a camping trip next week, rain or shine, so pray that it isn't as gloomy and cold next weekend! Cause, honestly, I just WANT some warmth. Spring is my most despised season, but I'm craving the heat, right now! I even put away my winter gear, only to take it out, again. **

**But, enough about me. ENJOY THE CHAPTER! And YOUR UPCOMING WEEKEND!**

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"How did a boy from Ireland end up here?" you heard Vincent ask, though you're not sure if the question was towards you or he was just thinking out loud, but when you let out an annoyed huff he turned his eyes back to you. "Speaking of all of this, can you be sure about your information? From what society dictates, demons tend to lie."

"Demons, lie. Devils, avoid speaking the truth," you stated, simply, and you could tell this new piece of information amused the man as you continued, sighing tiredly to yourself. "It's not very hard to figure out. Look, my understanding of the social hierarchy of the underworld is the same nonsense you know about your own British society. There are people you can piss off and they can do nothing about it, and there are those you never dare cross. A lord, unless you have the power to get rid of them, is one of those entities you shall not dare cross…

"But, rulers can be brought to their knees. I'm just deciding if I even want to bother with all of that," you scoffed to yourself, your head leaning into your hand as you leaned half of your upper body onto the table, staring tiredly at nothing in particular, but avoiding Vincent's thoughtful gaze before he let out a slight cough, getting your attention.

"I see how we're similar," he decided to say, though as he noticed your glare he smirked to himself, causing a scoff to leave your breath in return. "Strategizing. Planning your next move. Which makes me wonder, should I be worried?"

"The supernatural manipulate this human existence all the time. It's not strange for some entity to show up and cause a bit of havoc. Demons tend to go unnoticed, and most humans that disappear are thought to have moved away. Ran away from home. Most of the time, though, that isn't the case," you decided to say, reaching for your cup of tea and taking a sip. "… This land, the British Isles, is dictated by the creatures that live amongst the shadows. There's always this world and then a parallel world. Our mortal world, and the supernatural world. Yet, both creatures can die, but they just live in our shadows.

"Here, they are called the fey. Fairies. The fey folk. However you want to call it, those are the ones you must be cautious about… but, they despise demons and devils just as much as we do," you scoffed to yourself. "Those creatures come from the underworld. And yes, that exists. However, I like to think about it in terms of the Greek and Roman mythos. There is the overall underworld, but then there's Tartarus. Hell. Where the demons and devils are banished. The baddest of the bad. **That** is where those assholes live… but there's more to the underworld then just those bastards.

"Just like, how there's more to the English underworld then just scum," you decided to say, sipping on your tea and giving Vincent a slight smirk. "… _Any other questions~?_"

"No. Not really… I'm just, honestly, surprised you know so much," he told you, and you gave him a curious look.

"_Oooh~?_ You thought I was stupid, huh?"

"Not that! You just… act ignorant," he decided to say, but as he noticed your disapproved look he chuckled nervously. "I-I mean, about everything about nobility and such."

"No shit, Sherlock. I don't live in this time period, and your 'normal' is my weird. Okay? _**Sorry~**_ if I'm too stupid for you," you scoffed in disgust, but you couldn't help your amusement at the worried look that crossed the man's face at your harsh tone. "… I know how to have manners, mind you. It's that I don't care for it."

"Well… your sweet girl act has even affected my sister," he scoffed, but you gave him a sly smirk in response.

"That so?"

"You need to tell me what you're sending my relatives. Your letters. Are you talking about me?" he huffed, but you simply smirked deviously in response.

"_Maybe~_… Okay, honestly, not quite," you told him, pausing for a minute before you gave him a light smile. "I just ask them basic questions, for the most part. How to behave, what books to read about particular subjects. Lady Angelina has helped me with good medical books, your sister with proper Victorian manners. And your wife, well… she asks me a **lot** of questions. I just tell her interesting things about my day, and she, in turn, tells some things about her own day. Nothing too interesting," you stated, and he huffed in response.

"You must be saying more to them. Even Francis is teasing me."

"_Soorry~_. If you want, I could tell them all that you're having trouble with your cases and needed _myyy~ help_," you smirked, and he huffed at your words.

"You **insisted** on helping, Clara."

"Perhaps, but you still needed the help… I wasn't going to let you deal with them," you told him, and he huffed in response. "Honestly, I wanted to get rid of those… pests sooner, but if I'm going to be frank… I knew if I did Undertaker would throw a fit," you stated, and the earl gave you a curious look.

"Really? The Undertaker 'throwing a fit'? How would that work?" he scoffed, but you simply shrugged your shoulders, causing the man to sigh to himself. "You did worry the man. He wasn't taking in too many corpses, and I had to go to a different mortician for this current case!"

"You're on a case? Why aren't you finishing your job?" you huffed, but he shook his head at you.

"It's easy. Besides, I need to wait until tomorrow night for a party anyways… and speaking of parties –"

"No," you huffed, but he pouted.

"You didn't even let me finish –"

"No. I don't like crowds, and the only reason why I agreed to stay for a few days at your house was because of your wife. Besides, I don't know anything about how to properly act in such an environment. It's like stepping into a foreign land… and honestly, I don't care to learn," you scoffed, causing the man to huff in response.

"Come now. Just one. You can even bring the Undertaker –"

"Bring us where?" you heard Undertaker ask the moment he made his way up the stairs, eying the two of you suspiciously before he turned to the earl. "Your butler has returned, milord."

"Oh. Great, but," Vincent continued, turning back to you while you gave him an outright pout, "just one ball. It won't hurt –"

"It could. And I'm not in the mood to socialize –"

"You're just as bad as the Undertaker, you know that?" he huffed, standing up and grabbing his trench coat, placing it upon his shoulders as he let out a tired sigh. "Just, think about it. You can send me a letter if you're interested –"

"I mean, heck, what would I even do at those things? It's not like I'd know anyone, and I'm not interested in dating," you stated, causing the man to shrug his shoulders.

"We'll discuss this later, but I will find the boy's relatives, at the very least. Undertaker," Vincent spoke, giving the man a slight nod before he rushed down the stairs, probably in a rush so he could get to his destination in an efficient amount of time.

"… What was the boy wanting with you now?" you heard Undertaker groan underneath his breath, and you gave him a light smile.

"He wants me to go to a ball or party, or whatever, with him. I don't even care if he has an ulterior motive or not. I'm not in the mood for such a thing, right now," you huffed, but you felt arms wrap around your shoulders, the man's hands slumping over your chest as the man's chin plopped down upon the top of your head. "Undertaker. What?"

"I see no reason why you cannot go –"

"I can't dance! At least, not the waltz or whatever. Not that formal dance stuff," you scoffed, groaning to yourself as you leaned back into your chair, not bothering to care if Undertaker was hanging onto you like a baby monkey or not. "Besides, what other reason would I go? To socialize. Why? I know enough people. What? Are they trying to pair me up with a bunch of bachelors? Cause I'm not in the mood to play games with a bunch of pansies," you huffed, only to feel snickering against the side of your head.

"_**Pansies~**_" Undertaker snickered, and you rolled your eyes at his giggling response.

"Besides. I have more important things to care about," you decided to say, and you could hear the man's giggling quickly slowing down to a simple sigh, and then a slight huff.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I-I... Undertaker, I want to start training, again," you told him, pausing for a moment before you closed your eyes and began to shake your head, "and I get it if you don't want me to train myself. You want me to be some weak, docile human girl, but I'm sorry. That's not the way I am. I unlocked my powers, maybe not all of it, but some of it, and if my enemies make another appearance, which I'm sure will happen, I need to be ready. I don't want to wait after twenty seven deaths to deal with the problem.

"Don't stop me," you stated, but then you felt a slight kiss on the side of your face, and you couldn't help but lean away from him, looking up to stare at Undertaker with a confused look. "W-what was **that** for?"

"I won't stop you," he told you, but as you stared at him hesitantly, even a bit critically, he sighed and gently patted the top of your head. "… I mean it."

"So you say."

"I'll show you a place to train, here. In the human world," he told you, and as you gave him an unsure look, he gave you a meek smile in response. "I may not be happy about this particular development, but I will feel better if I can see just how strong of a creature you truly are, my dear."

"Oh?... You want to spare with me?" you asked in a curious tone, and noticing his surprised face you continued with a smirk. "Come now. I could tell you have some sort of power. You have a scythe as a death weapon, for crying out loud –"

"I could hurt you, child. I wouldn't want to accidently reap your soul –"

"I can handle a bit of sparring. If you can just trust in my abilities," you huffed, looking up to stare into his partially covered eyes, "in the same way that I'm not sure about your abilities. Seriously. I'd _**love~**_ to see what you're made of."

"_**That so~?**_" you saw the man smirking, the thought of sparring enough to thrill even this man, and you chuckled lowly in response.

"We should wait till this case is officially closed, though," you continued, closing your eyes and sitting properly in your chair as you sighed to yourself. "I want to make sure the boy has a proper home, first. I'd hate to see him tossed aside by his own family."

"Sounds like to me you've had a similar experience," he stated, his smile slowly turning into a pout at the quiet response you gave him.

But before he could sigh and apologize, you meekly spoke, "Yes… it's a terrible feeling to be abandoned, multiple times… I'm surprised I'm even sane, after all of that," you huffed, only to snort as you could hear the man snickering against your ear.

"_Perhaps~ you're not sane_."

"Oh great. The loon thinks I'm not sane. Though perhaps, insanity begets insanity. Not that I would know or anything," you scoffed, but your head slowly turned as you sensed that the boy had woken up from his napping, again. "… I should make sure the boy is alright."

"If you insist," you heard Undertaker speak, and you couldn't help but give him a curious look as he let you go and began to make his way into the kitchen.

"… If you don't like the fact I care about another, you could just tell me –"

"No. It's not that you care for the boy. I just understand that your mind isn't on our conversation, anymore," he stated, giving you a light smirk before he continued into the kitchen. "I'll start dinner."

"If you wish," you told him, wondering if you should have asked Vincent how you should handle the Undertaker's quietness… or if you should just let your conversations die in such a manner.

Hmm… or maybe you should take that man up on his offer to go to a ball…

Not that you care for them. Just so you could see Lady Rachel, again.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"Brenny!" you heard the feminine voice of a thirty year old woman shout, and you watched as the boy left your side, running into the street to hug the woman that had stepped out of the decent looking carriage. You had to put a hand to your face, pushing back the need to choke back tears at the sight as slight tears prickled at the corners of your eyes.

If… only you got to return to such a warm felt mother… but sadly, that was never meant to be. Maybe you wouldn't be the messed up, warped mess you are now, and instead enjoy the fact you're still alive and breathing. To return to a family that loves you. That cares about you…

It's… been so long… since anyone actually gave a damn about you… about your existence. Not just because they want to manipulate you, use you, or even just protect you from the rest of the world. That… you were loved… and someone cared… and it didn't matter what happened. About your experiences.

Because you had a place to go home to. A place where you could belong.

"… Clara?" you heard Undertaker speak, noticing your silence, the contemplative and sad look on your face, and you didn't quite notice the man glancing at Vincent as the earl gave the two of you a devious smirk, only for his smile to fall, just slightly, at the depressed look adorning your face.

But, once the two O'Moores turned their attention to you, you managed to give them both a smile, though your smile didn't shine in your sad filled gaze. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much, miss –"

"Did the earl tell you about the fact that the boy –"

"Yes," his mother spoke, a sad look on her own face before she began to brush her hand through the boy's hair, smiling at him contently while he stared up at her with a deepened sadness. "But, that does not matter to me… When both my husband and child disappeared I was so distort… I am ever in your debt, miss."

"No need for that," you told her, but before you could refuse anything else, Branden rushed up to you, hugging your knees while you smiled down at him, sadly. You slowly knelt down, returning the tight hug the boy was giving you, before you gently put him at arm's length, with your hands upon his shoulders as you stared into his bright blue eyes. "Now, there is something you could do for me, after everything," you began, and you could tell the mother looked nervous at your words, while the boy was giving you an unsure look as you smirked lightly at him. "Don't worry. It's not too difficult.

"All I ask, in return for everything, is that you be a good little boy to your mother. Make her happy. Don't argue with her rules, for she demands from you because she loves you… Can you do that, Brendan?" you asked, watching as he quickly nodded his head, and you smirked at you rustled up his tangled up mess of ungroomed hair. "Very good. I'm sure you'll be a great little baron. A perfect gentleman, as you Brits say," you smirked, slowly standing back to your feet as you ushered the boy back to his mother, and she instantly took him against her body before she gave you a meek smile.

"I-I… truly, we are forever in your debt. At least, I am. They are my world, miss –"

"No. Seriously. I don't need anything from you," you told her, putting up at hand before you sighed and smiled meekly at her, staring into her own bright, joyful blue eyes. "Take good care of your son, okay? And trust me, what brings me joy is the fact that I got to save your boy's life. Even if it's only one life, that's enough," you told her, before you turned your attention to Vincent.

You let the earl sweet talk his way into ushering the family back into the carriage, where his butler held the door open, waiting for the earl to make his way into the carriage. Yet, Vincent stopped, turning his attention to the two of you as he calmly walked up to both you and the Undertaker. "Take good care of her, Undertaker," Vincent spoke sternly, casting you a meek smile, before he calmly made his way into the carriage, with Tanaka giving you a nod and he closed the door, sitting up where the driver of the carriage currently is.

You watched as the carriage slowly rolled away, and the moment it did…

You slowly let the tears trickle down your face.

"Clara," you heard Undertaker speak, quickly rushing to your side to wrap his arms around you, bringing you into his chest as you slumped your head into his warm clothes, feeling his beating heart against your ear as you let your tears silently drip down your face and into his clothing. "… I'm sorry you didn't get to keep the boy –"

"N-no… No, that's not why I'm sad. I'm happy… that the boy is reunited with his mother. His family. He should be with his family," you stated, but your hands reached upward, gripping at his clothes as you let out an unrestrained sniffle, "b-but… I'm just sad… I didn't get to have that," you told him, your face slumping into his chest as you began to sob, softly at first, before your cries became a bit louder. Mournful.

You could feel Undertaker bringing you back into the mortuary, closing the door and locking it, before he ushered you to sit down upon one of the caskets, but you refused to let him go. So, with a sigh, he sat down, and brought you onto his lap as you slumped into him, crying softly to yourself.

But eventually, when you had no more tears to shed, you breathed, heavily, your body shaking as you refused to lose your composure, completely, and eventually… you sighed, deeply, slowly, gaining back your breath as you slowly lifted your face, glancing up at the Undertaker before you looked away, mainly out of embarrassment then anything else. "… Sorry. I lost my composure."

"It's okay… No, maybe it's not," you heard Undertaker sigh to himself, but before he could do anything else you looked over at him, smiling at him sadly as you let out a shaky breath.

"I was… a bit overly emotional. It… happens, but that's what makes me human, okay? There's a lot that I wish I could change about myself… but sometimes the me that I am is better than anything else I could have been," you decided to say, but you could feel his hand upon your chin, forcing your face to look up into his eyes, before he gave you a sympathetic smile in return.

"You're a sweet child. You truly are… which makes me worry, oh so much," he scoffed, his eyes glancing back to you as you let out a slight snicker, causing the man to smirk back at you in return. "Now that this drama is, hopefully, over, what is your plan now?"

"… Training," you responded, almost immediately, but as he gave you an unsure look you grasped one of his hands, sighing to yourself as you tugged on his hand to get his full attention. "I know you're not happy about that, but… this is my decision. Being this weak has been… infuriating. When I was actually human, when I was a child, I would have never thought I had such… interesting powers, but now?... If I don't at least try to be who I used to be… it'll be like I lost a part of myself. I don't know if I can go back to just… accepting myself, like this. I've tried. It's just… I-I just can't," you frowned, looking away, only to be drawn back to his gaze as he placed his fingers back underneath your chin, turning your face as he stared down at you with a sad gaze.

"If this is what you want. I will not stop you."

"It is," you stated, but before you continued you slipped out of the man's lap, sitting next to him upon the casket as you grasped his hands, placing them upon your knee as you smiled to him weakly, "but Undertaker, be honest… Do you still want me because of who I am… or did you want me because I was a human that can understand you?" you asked, your smile weaning as you stared at him with an unsure gaze, but he smiled to you, softly, before he slowly leaned forward and gently kissed your lips.

You gasped, feeling one of his hands gripping your thigh tightly through your dress, while his other hand slipped free from your grasp, reaching up for your face to bring your jaw closer to his own. You moaned, softly, as his teeth nibbled upon your plump lips, just slightly, before he suddenly licked your lips, and you flinched away with a yelp, looking at him with wide eyes as he giggled lightly at your quick and confused reaction.

"I told you, I will love you for you. The real question is, do you still want me?" he asked you, but as you stared into his eyes, studying his gaze as his smile seemed to wean, you leaned forward, giving him a quick peck on the lips, before you moved away just as quickly while you smiled lightly at him.

"I want you, Undertaker. I'm more worried that you don't want me, anymore."

"Of course I want you… I'll show you," he continued, smirking as he suddenly stood to his feet, bringing you up to your own feet as he grasped both of your hands, and kissed the tops of your hands as he stared deeply into your bright, widened eyes. Your cheeks blushing brightly at his intense staring. "Let us take time off, this afternoon. My treat."

"U-undertaker –"

"Wear something you can run around in. Outdoor attire," he smirked, tugging on your hands slightly before he let go, and he grinned, skipping around the room slightly at the mere thoughts of his own planning. "We'll leave at five."

"Five on the dot? Or five, when I feel like it?" you smirked back, only to earn you a playful nudge on the arm, causing you to giggle as he began to lean over you and nuzzle his nose against the side of your head, keeping you from running away with his arms wrapping around your waist. "U-undertaker! S-stop!"

"_Maybe I won't~_" he giggled, continuing to nuzzle his face against your own, but then he stopped, kissing your cheek quickly before he let you go and began to skip towards the barely noticeable hallway. "Five, love."

"A-alright," you responded, watching as he disappeared down the hallway, giggling to himself while you stood there, blushing madly.

You remember telling Undertaker that, if you were to be 'with him', that you expected to 'go out' once a week… but sometimes… that doesn't happen, and after what happened with the demons and the boy and the current case… you were too emotionally drained to bother with such things. And, the man was kind enough to give you some space.

But apparently, he's been missing the idea of bringing you, somewhere… but where?

Would you be roaming the countryside with Undertaker, perhaps? Or jumping realms? You couldn't help but feel a bit excited…

But you cannot help but feel very nervous, as well.


End file.
